Author: Momo Chan

I’m a child my parents adopted from an orphanage. They treated me well. Every night before bed, I would pray, begging God not to send me back to the orphanage. Then Mom got pregnant with a baby. I hid under my blanket and cried all night, quietly packing the small suitcase I’d arrived with. But they didn’t send me away. Instead, they treated me even better. The day my brother was born, Mom held my hand and gently stroked my head. “Lily, now you’ll have a little brother to keep you company!” Dad lifted me above his head, spinning around happily. “You’re our family’s lucky star, the most precious treasure to Mom and Dad!” I finally stopped living in constant fear, thinking I’d truly become part of this family. Until that day, when my brother broke my beloved astronaut model. I got so angry that I pushed him. He stumbled and sat down on the floor, bursting into tears. Mom panicked instantly. She shoved me aside and pulled my brother into her arms, asking him over and over if he was hurt. Dad rushed over, gripping my shoulders and pinning me against the wall. His eyes were frighteningly red. “Lily! After raising you all these years, you actually bully your brother? Believe it or not, I’ll send you back right now—”

“Nathan!” Mom stopped him, and Dad’s words remained unfinished. But I already understood. The kids at the orphanage were right. Children like us who were adopted—once the family has their own kids, we’ll eventually be sent back. I was too foolish, thinking I’d be the special one. I bit my lip and said nothing, watching as Mom and Dad comforted my brother and left. The sound of the door closing was soft, but it landed on my heart like a stone, causing sharp pain. I thought I would cry, but my eyes were dry. Nothing came out. I just stood in the living room for a long time, then returned to my room and dragged out that small suitcase from under the bed. Five years ago, I’d come to this home with that very suitcase. I was still very young then, too young to remember what the orphanage looked like. I only remembered Mom crouching down to look at me, her eyes bright, asking, “Would you like to come home with me?” I nodded, and she smiled—a smile more beautiful than anyone’s at the orphanage. But just now, there was no smile in her eyes. When she left holding my brother’s hand, she didn’t even look back at me. Dad didn’t either. I knew they must really be planning to send me back. Rather than wait for them to say it, I might as well take the initiative myself. That way at least… it wouldn’t be too humiliating. I could tell the kids at the orphanage, “They didn’t abandon me. I chose to come back myself.” Though they probably wouldn’t believe me. I gently brushed the dust off the suitcase, pulled open the somewhat rusty zipper, and began packing. I started with some clothes. My favorite pink dress, the sweater Mom knitted last year, and that slightly pilled red scarf… I folded them neatly and placed them in the suitcase. I didn’t dare take too much, afraid they’d think I was too greedy. Then toys. I hesitated for a long time and finally took only two things: a gray stuffed rabbit and a plastic star necklace. The stuffed rabbit was what Mom had tucked into my arms on my first night in this home. She’d said, “Let it sleep with you, and you won’t be scared.” It was already worn and tattered, with one ear crooked. But it was the first gift I’d received in this home. I couldn’t bear to leave it behind. The star necklace was something Dad brought back from a business trip. It even had my name engraved on it. Finally, I took a family photo. It was taken shortly after I first came to this home five years ago. In the photo, I was held between Mom and Dad, smiling so hard my eyes disappeared. I carefully wrapped the frame in the sweater and placed it in the middle of the clothes. That way, when I missed them, I could look at it. After packing everything, I closed the suitcase and zipped it up. The suitcase was heavier than when I’d arrived. I tested lifting it—I could barely manage. Outside, the sky had turned completely dark. I sat on the suitcase, quietly waiting for Mom and Dad to come home. When they returned, if they really wanted to send me away, I would say, “Okay, I’ve already packed.” What if they wanted me to stay? If they kept me, I’d put the suitcase back and pretend nothing had happened. Seven o’clock. Eight o’clock. Nine o’clock. They still hadn’t come back. Were they deliberately giving me time to leave on my own? Perhaps I should be more tactful… At 9:05, I stood up and took one last look at my room. On the desk lay unfinished homework. On the bed was the blanket Mom had aired out just yesterday, still carrying the scent of sunshine. On the windowsill was the succulent Mom and I had planted together. We’d promised to watch it bloom and grow together. What a pity. I wouldn’t be there to see that day. I gently closed the door, dragged my suitcase through the living room, and left home. A cold wind hit my face. I shivered. I pulled the scarf tighter and dragged my suitcase into the night. There were few people in the neighborhood. Occasionally someone coming home late hurried past, but no one noticed the little girl with a suitcase. The streetlights stretched my shadow and the suitcase’s shadow long and thin. Actually, I’d long forgotten exactly where the orphanage was. I just followed vague memories, heading west. By the fourth traffic light, my arms were so sore I could barely lift them. This intersection was very wide. When I was halfway across, the suitcase suddenly got stuck in a depression in the road. I pulled hard but couldn’t move it, so I crouched down, trying to lift the suitcase. Just then, a blinding light shone from the right, so bright I couldn’t open my eyes. I heard the sharp screech of brakes, then something heavy slammed into me. It didn’t hurt. Really, it didn’t hurt at all. I just felt myself flying, light as a feather. Then I saw my suitcase overturned on the ground, its contents scattered everywhere. I fell to the ground. My vision began to blur, my ears buzzing. Many footsteps ran over. Many voices shouted. But they all sounded muffled, as if through thick glass—distant and unclear.

The next time I was conscious, I found myself floating in midair. Looking down, I saw a circle of people gathered on the road. In the middle lay a little girl wearing a red scarf, her belongings scattered around her. Her eyes were closed. She looked peaceful. When I saw her face clearly, I was startled. That was me. The ambulance’s red lights were flashing. The blue lights rotated, illuminating everyone’s faces in flickering brightness and shadow. Medical personnel crouched beside me, doing something. Then they shook their heads regretfully and took out a white cloth, gently covering that small body. The white cloth was quickly stained red at one corner, like plum blossoms blooming in snow. I finally understood. So I’d died. That was fine. This way, the kids at the orphanage wouldn’t have a chance to laugh at me. The crowd gradually dispersed. Police arrived, taking photos and setting up police tape. My suitcase was picked up and placed beside the police car. But where should I go? I didn’t know. But before that, I really wanted to see Mom and Dad one more time. The wind blew, and though I felt no cold, I drifted with it. Drifting to the intersection, I saw a familiar car—Dad’s black sedan, slowly driving past the accident scene. Like grabbing a lifeline, I chased after it, passing through the closed window and landing in the back seat beside my brother. Inside the car was warm, the air conditioning humming. “There were so many people gathered back there,” Mom’s voice came from the passenger seat. “Did something happen?” Dad glanced at the rearview mirror. “Looks like a car accident. I saw ambulances and police cars.” My brother sat beside me, concentrating on playing with a new remote-control car. Its lights flashed on and off—so pretty. “The amusement park was so fun!” My brother suddenly looked up, eyes sparkling. “Mom, can we go again?” Mom smiled at him gently. “Of course. We’ll go again this weekend.” “I want cotton candy too!” My brother swung his little legs. “We’ll buy it, all of it.” Dad smiled at him through the rearview mirror. “Did you have fun today?” “Yes!” The atmosphere in the car was light and happy. Mom scrolled through photos on her phone from today, laughing from time to time. Dad hummed along with the car radio. My brother continued playing with his new toy. I watched the three of them, suddenly feeling a sharp ache in my chest. Sure enough, this family was just fine without me. “Oh, right,” Mom suddenly remembered something and pulled a box from her handbag. “I almost forgot this.” My eyes lit up. It was a brand-new astronaut model, identical to the one my brother had broken! “We searched so many stores. Thank goodness we found the last one,” Mom carefully inspected the packaging. “It’s the same as Lily’s, right?” Dad glanced at it. “Exactly the same. She’ll definitely love it.” “You really shouldn’t have said that to Lily.” Mom’s voice carried a gentle reproach. “She’s still a child. Evan broke her favorite toy—of course she’d be upset.” “I just got carried away in the moment…” Dad touched his nose. “Okay, okay, my fault.” Mom put the box back carefully. “Lily’s probably still sulking right now. When we get home, you take the new toy and make it up to her.” “Got it.” Dad’s voice softened. “Did we get the strawberry cake?” “Got it, from Lily’s favorite shop.” Mom turned to look at the back seat, her gaze tender. “And new hair clips too, the star-shaped ones she likes.” My brother held up the remote-control car. “Does Lily get a new toy too?” “Of course she does.” Mom smiled. “Everyone gets one.” I looked at that brand-new astronaut, at the anticipation on Mom’s face, at the hint of apology in Dad’s eyes. Suddenly, I understood everything. So they weren’t abandoning me after all. So they came back so late not to force me to leave, but because they’d run to several stores just to buy me an identical new model. So they’d also bought strawberry cake and star hair clips, and had already planned what to say to apologize. So… they still loved me. But it was too late.

The car drove into the neighborhood and parked. Mom carried the cake box. Dad carefully held the astronaut model. They went upstairs laughing, discussing how to surprise me. I followed behind them, passing through door after door, returning home. The living room light came on. “Lily, we’re home!” Mom’s voice carried a smile. “Look what Mom and Dad got you!” No one answered. Dad placed the astronaut model on the coffee table, right next to the cracked old one. One old, one new—like twins. “Is she asleep?” Mom said softly, tiptoeing toward my room. I followed her. She gently pushed open the door, speaking softly. “Lily, Mom’s coming in…” The room was quiet, with only the occasional sound of wind rustling the leaves outside. “Lily? Are you asleep?” Mom called again, her voice even softer. She waited a few seconds, receiving no response from me, hearing no rustling of blankets. The room light was turned on. The bed was neatly made, the blanket folded squarely. Mom’s breathing quickened. “Nathan! Come here!” Her voice began to tremble. “Lily’s gone!” Dad came over, glanced into the room, and his expression immediately darkened. “This child is getting more and more out of control!” His voice shook with anger. “Just because I said a few words to her, she’s playing runaway with me?!” “Keep your voice down…” Mom glanced at Evan and tugged at Dad’s arm. “Don’t scare the child…” Dad’s voice got louder. “To buy her an identical toy, we went to three stores! And she has the nerve to walk out over a little criticism? So inconsiderate!” Mom collapsed onto my bed, her hand touching the smooth sheets. “It’s so late… where could she have gone…” “Where else? She’s just trying to spite us!” Dad paced around the room. “Don’t worry, she can’t have gone far. When she gets cold and hungry, she’ll come back on her own.” Evan stood in the doorway holding his remote-control car, asking timidly, “Where did Lily go?” “Your sister was naughty and snuck out.” Dad said irritably. “Don’t worry about her. Let her think things through!” “But…” Mom wanted to say something. “No buts!” Dad cut her off. “You spoil her too much! At such a young age, she dares to run away from home? Ridiculous!” Evan’s voice came from the living room. “Mom, I’m hungry. Can I have cake?” Mom wiped her eyes and stood up. “…Go ahead.” They returned to the living room. Mom opened the cake box. Bright red strawberries were arranged in a circle on the cream. She cut the cake into four pieces, giving one to Dad, one to Evan, then looked at the piece with the most strawberries and said softly, “This piece is for Lily.” I watched them sit at the dining table. Evan ate happily, cream all over his face. Dad ate his cake in silence, his expression still ugly. Mom ate in small bites, but her eyes kept fixed on the front door. “It’s so sweet.” Evan said. “Is Lily’s sweet too?” “Sweet.” Mom touched his head. “We’ll save it for when Lily comes back.” But your sister can’t come back anymore. I wanted to say it, but I couldn’t make a sound.

After dinner, they put Evan to bed. Evan lay in his small bed, holding his new remote-control car. “When will Lily come back?” “Very soon.” Mom tucked in his blanket. “Close your eyes and sleep. You’ll see your sister tomorrow morning.” “Then I’ll let Lily play with my new toy too.” Evan said softly. “Okay, you can share with Lily.” The light went off. Mom gently closed the door. In the living room, the clock pointed to 10:30. Dad sat on the sofa, staring at his phone. The screen was lit, but he wasn’t really looking at anything. He just kept opening SnapChat, closing it, opening it, closing it. Mom paced back and forth in the living room, walking to the window for the third time to look down. “Nathan,” she finally couldn’t hold it in, “let’s go out and look for her.” “Look for what?” Dad didn’t look up, though his voice lacked conviction. “Let her come back on her own.” “But it’s so cold outside… and she’s so small…” Mom’s voice took on a tearful quality. Dad said nothing, but his fingers gripping the phone tightened. The clock on the wall went “tick-tock, tick-tock.” Eleven o’clock. Dad suddenly stood up and grabbed his coat. “Let’s go.” They rushed out the door. I followed behind, watching them search the neighborhood, search the children’s playground, search every path while calling my name. “Lily—! Lily—!” Mom’s voice scattered in the night wind, carrying increasingly obvious panic. Her voice was already getting hoarse, but she kept shouting, call after call. Dad initially kept a stern face, but soon he too grew anxious. He ran to the security office to check the surveillance footage and saw the small figure on the screen dragging a blue suitcase, walking out of the neighborhood gate at 9:08. “She actually took a suitcase?!” Dad’s face went white. Mom covered her mouth. Tears finally fell. They drove out to search, following the western route, street by street. Mom kept her face pressed against the car window, looking outside, murmuring, “Lily… Lily, where are you…” Dad said nothing, but the car went faster and faster. They searched for a long time—long enough for the shops along the road to turn off their lights one by one, long enough for all the pedestrians on the street to disappear. The air in the car grew heavier and more oppressive. After driving through another empty street, Dad pulled the car over to the side of the road. He gripped the steering wheel and stayed silent for a long time. “Let’s call the police.” Mom forced out these three words. Dad nodded and picked up his phone. Before he could dial, the screen lit up first. The ringtone exploded in the quiet car, piercingly anxiety-inducing. He glanced at it—an unknown number. He answered impatiently. “Hello?” I leaned over and heard a calm male voice on the other end: “Is this the parent of Lily Harper? This is Central City Hospital—”

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The day the doctor diagnosed me with premature ovarian failure, a whole table of food. I waited until midnight before my husband Ethan finally sent me a FaceTime call. He was wearing matching pajamas, sitting in another woman’s living room. Beside him was Yvonne, the struggling student he sponsored. Her nightgown was fresh and revealing. “Yvonne’s afraid of the dark. I’m staying with her tonight. You eat by yourself.” Five years of secret marriage. I bore him a son and suffered countless ailments. Yet he used gratitude as an excuse to rent Yvonne a luxury penthouse and play full-time caretaker. I’d suggested going public with our marriage multiple times. He always emphasized that Yvonne was emotionally fragile and couldn’t handle any stimulation, constantly accommodating her feelings. As his legal wife, I’d become an invisible business partner instead. On the video screen, Yvonne pulled a diamond ring from Ethan’s coat pocket. This was the wedding ring I’d waited three years for. Ethan only hesitated for a second before nodding with a smile. “If you like it, wear it as a toy.” I glanced at the diagnosis in the trash can and calmly ended the call. Then I photographed the divorce agreement I’d drafted along with my son’s name change application and posted it on Ins: “Widowed, single mother, three listed companies under my name. Now seeking handsome husband. Interested parties, DM me.”

[Beep. Fingerprint verification successful.] “Ethan, why can Yvonne unlock our front door?” I tossed my bag onto the shoe bench, staring at the green light on the lock. Inside the bag was my premature ovarian failure diagnosis. Ethan sat on the carpet looking at his phone, not raising his head. “The showerhead in her studio apartment broke. She’s borrowing the bathroom today. I added her fingerprint for convenience so she doesn’t have to knock every time.” His tone was casual, seeing nothing wrong with it, not even needing my consent. When we first moved in, Ethan had set my fingerprint as the sole administrator. He said I had the highest authority and could kick him out at any time. Now he’d shared that authority with someone else. The old Ethan was territorial. He refused to add the cleaning lady’s fingerprint, preferring to clean himself on weekends. He said home was a restricted zone that outsiders couldn’t enter. Now the door was wide open for Yvonne. I looked at the pink slippers by the entrance. They were on Yvonne’s feet. Five years ago that winter, Ethan had run across half the city to buy them. He knelt on one knee to help me put them on, saying my feet got cold in winter and I could only wear this type. Now those slippers were on someone else’s feet. I looked at the frosted bathroom door. “That’s a personal towel. I find it dirty.” Ethan looked up and frowned. “Don’t assume the worst about people. She just graduated and doesn’t know about these things.” “Her parents were injured saving me. Taking care of her is my duty.” “You should be more generous and help me take care of her!” The bathroom door opened. Yvonne emerged wearing my black camisole under Ethan’s bathrobe. I pressed my aching abdomen. “Then why is she wearing my nightgown?” Ethan glared at me. “Enough! Don’t be excessive!” He turned, his eyes gentle as he walked toward Yvonne. The old Ethan had a cleanliness obsession. When a female intern brushed against his coat in the elevator, he took it off on the spot and threw it in the trash. He said his clothes should only carry his wife’s scent. Now he draped his bathrobe over Yvonne and allowed her to wear my underwear. Ethan stood up and took the towel from Yvonne’s hands. “Her clothes got wet. I just grabbed something. Be more generous and don’t fixate on small things.” He helped Yvonne dry her hair with gentle movements. Before, after every hair wash, he’d use the hairdryer to dry mine, afraid I’d catch cold. “I’ll dry your hair for the rest of my life!” Now that treatment went to someone else. “Ethan, is this the business partner you mentioned?” Yvonne tilted her head and smiled at me. Five years of secret marriage. I bore him a son and suffered chronic illness, yet in his mouth I was just a business partner. Ethan paused. “Yeah. She’s usually busy. Ask her if you don’t understand anything.” He pulled me aside, his tone carrying a warning. “Yvonne thinks you’re my startup partner. She has low self-esteem. If she knew I was married, she’d feel guilty and refuse my support.” “Be more understanding and help me build a relationship with her so she feels secure.” I laughed. “Build a relationship? Do you need me to make the bed for you two?” Yvonne retreated half a step behind Ethan. “Does Lily hate me? Ethan, I’ll leave. Don’t let me affect your relationship.” She reached to untie the bathrobe sash. Ethan grabbed her wrist and looked at me. “You sleep in the guest room tonight. Yvonne will be more comfortable in the master bedroom.”

“You’re kicking me out of the master bedroom?” I looked at him. Ethan’s face showed impatience as he released Yvonne’s hand. “Do you have to make such a scene? She’s only staying one night.” When we first bought this place, he visited over a dozen design firms just for the master bedroom decoration. He said the master bedroom was my territory. He even had my initials engraved on the door plate. Once when he was on a business trip, his mother wanted to sleep in the master bedroom. He got angry on the phone and paid overnight to send her to a hotel. He promised then that only the lady of the house could enter the master bedroom. Now for Yvonne’s so-called comfort, he was evicting the lady of the house. He stepped forward to accuse me: “Fine, play the boss at the company, but you have to lord over a young girl at home too?” I walked past him to the guest room door. The bed had the silk sheets I bought last month. I’d planned to use them on our fifth anniversary, but now Yvonne’s suitcase sat on top. I used to have skin allergies. When we first moved in together, I broke out in a rash across my back. Ethan knocked on the boutique door in the middle of the night and paid premium prices for every silk bedding set in the store. Before, he always prepared half a month in advance for anniversaries. Our first anniversary after getting our marriage license, he cut his finger preparing dinner but insisted on cooking my steak even with bandaged fingers. He swore every future anniversary would be ceremonial, never perfunctory. Back then he cared about my health and our special days. Now he let someone else trample on my anniversary gift. “Move your things.” I looked at Yvonne. Yvonne’s eyes reddened and tears began to fall. “I’m sorry. Ethan said no one was using it, so I put my things here.” Ethan stepped forward to block her. “Why are you taking it out on her?” “They’re just sheets. I’ll buy you ten sets tomorrow.” He pulled out a black card and slapped it on the table. “Take the money and get a hotel room.” That card was my supplementary card. He was using my money to dismiss me. I didn’t take the card. Nausea rose in my stomach. The hormonal imbalance from premature ovarian failure intensified the cramping in my lower abdomen. I felt dizzy, gripping the doorframe to catch my breath, cold sweat beading on my forehead. “Stop faking.” Ethan looked at me. “You climb stairs with clients without getting winded. Now you’re playing the victim for who?” I looked away. During our startup phase, I drank with clients until I had stomach bleeding. He burst into the private room and beat up the client, carried me running to the hospital, crying as he ran. That night he kept vigil by the hospital bed and swore that if I even frowned from period cramps in the future, he’d take me to the ER and suffer in my place. Now I could barely stand from pain, yet he said I was acting. He grabbed Yvonne’s hand. “Yvonne, let’s go. You’re not welcome here. I’ll take you to a hotel.” The door closed. I slid down the doorframe to the floor and dialed emergency services. On the ambulance, the nurse took my phone. “We need to contact your emergency contact. What’s your family member’s number?” I gave Ethan’s number. The nurse dialed and put it on speaker. The phone rang for a long time before a female voice came through. “Hello, who is this?” It was Yvonne who answered. The nurse looked at me. “Is Ethan there? His wife passed out and is heading to the hospital now.” There was no immediate response. Yvonne’s voice came through the speaker, with the sound of running water and a man’s heavy breathing in the background. “Ethan told me he was single when he started sponsoring me. Where did a wife come from? You’ve got the wrong number.” The call was disconnected. Before, Ethan said his phone was on standby for me 24/7. I was the starred contact in his phone, available at my beck and call. The nurse looked at me. “Do you need to call again?” “No need. No one will answer.” I closed my eyes.

The next day, I dragged my exhausted body back to the real estate office. A client was about to put down a deposit on that million-dollar penthouse duplex. I had to handle it personally. As I reached the reception area, I saw Ethan sitting on the sofa with Yvonne. Yvonne flipped through the duplex’s brochure and looked up. “Ethan, these floor-to-ceiling windows are so beautiful. I could practice yoga here.” Ethan affectionately ruffled her hair. “If you like it, we’ll rent it. This can be your art studio.” This property was where he’d knelt on the cement floor to propose to me years ago. He’d drawn up a design plan, saying he’d lay down wool carpet by the windows for me to read. This property held all our initial fantasies about home. Later we had to mortgage it when the company’s capital chain broke. He’d promised with red eyes that one day he’d buy it back himself and give it to me. But now, he wanted to turn our “proposal sanctuary” into Yvonne’s yoga room. I stepped forward and raised my chin toward the sales manager. “Take this property off the market. Not for sale or rent.” Ethan’s expression darkened. He stood up accusingly. “What do you mean? You have to compete with Yvonne?” I cut him off: “Ethan, I’m the full-price owner of this property. If I want to leave it empty to feed rats rather than let questionable people dirty my floors, that’s my choice. Understand?” Ethan froze. Yvonne lowered her head, her voice taking on a tearful tone: “Lily is rich, naturally she looks down on me. Ethan, let’s go.” Ethan gripped her hand and turned to me: “So what if you have money? You don’t have an ounce of empathy. Go ahead and grow old with your broken property.” Watching their retreating backs, I recalled how during the company’s startup phase, he’d rather do hard labor on construction sites than accept startup capital from my parents. He gave me every penny of his first earnings, even if it was just a few thousand, while he ate only cheap bread and pickled vegetables.. He said his money was my money. He would never spend a woman’s penny. And now, he shamelessly swiped my supplementary card to please another woman, even turning around to mock me for being rich and heartless. He pulled Yvonne away without looking back. I closed my eyes, sat back in the car, and picked up the property deed from the passenger seat. I tore this fifth anniversary gift along with the diagnosis from my bag into pieces and threw them away. I opened SnapChat and posted the divorce agreement I’d already drafted along with photos of my son’s name change documents to my feed: “Widowed, single mother, three listed companies under my name. Now seeking handsome husband. Interested parties, DM me.” After posting, I pressed the accelerator and drove toward the unfinished villas in the western suburbs to test nighttime noise levels.

At eleven p.m., I walked into the villa complex with a flashlight. Years ago when I worked overtime until dawn during a blackout, I was too scared to move from under my desk. Ethan braved a rainstorm and climbed twenty flights of stairs to find me. His clothes were soaked through, but he wrapped me in his warm coat, crying as he swore never to leave me alone in darkness again. He said he couldn’t rest easy with me working alone at night. Now I could only light my own way with a flashlight. I’d just reached the first floor when messy footsteps sounded behind me. Several thugs blocked my exit. “Middle of the night, what’s a pretty lady doing here alone?” The gang leader whistled, looking me up and down. I turned and ran upstairs, entered a second-floor bedroom and locked the door. Pounding came from outside. “Open up! Don’t reject a kind offer only to face the consequences!” I hid in the closet and instinctively opened SnapChat, calling Ethan on FaceTime. The video rang and rang. Outside, the wooden door made cracking sounds. The screen finally lit up. In the frame, Ethan sat in the luxury apartment he’d rented for Yvonne. Before, when I encountered a drunk stalker on a business trip, I only sent a punctuation mark and he immediately called the police and chartered a car overnight to find me across provinces. He used to hold me and say that whenever I needed him, he’d be there at my call. Now across the screen, he watched my trembling lips without a trace of concern in his eyes. “What game are you playing now?” He stared at the camera impatiently. “Save me. I’m not joking. Someone’s breaking down the door.” I lowered my voice. “I can’t get through to 911. Please call the police!” He scoffed, his eyes full of irritation. “Lily, what are you doing posting crazy stuff on Ins? Recruiting a husband? Three listed companies? Delete it now!” “I’m really trapped in an unfinished building. Call the police…” “Keep making things up. You’re just using this ploy to force me to come back, aren’t you?” Ethan picked up the milk beside him and took a sip. “Yvonne saw your post and cried. She’s afraid of being alone. I have to stay with her tonight. Figure it out yourself.” The camera shook. Yvonne’s face appeared on the screen. She held an exquisitely packaged gift box in her hands. “Ethan, why do you have lingerie in your bag?” The box opened, revealing the sexy lingerie I’d blushed while selecting for a long time, planned as a surprise for our fifth anniversary night. Back then, seeing my shyness, he’d rescued me from embarrassment and generously put it in his bag, holding me and saying thank you repeatedly. Ethan hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded with a smile. “If you like it, go ahead and wear it.” Before, I’d casually given him a woven bracelet worth a few dozen dollars. He never took it off even in the shower, and when it broke he kept it in the safe. Now he gave away my carefully prepared intimate fifth anniversary gift like it was just any piece of clothing. The wooden door was completely knocked down. Several thugs walked in. I watched Yvonne on screen holding the lingerie with a triumphant smile and proactively pressed the hang-up button. The gang thug walked to the closet and yanked open the door. “Run! Why aren’t you running now?” I reached into my bag and gripped the pepper spray. Police sirens and screeching brakes sounded outside. A low male voice came from downstairs. “Anyone who touches a hair on her head leaves here horizontal today.” Footsteps accompanied bodyguards rushing into the room. The gang thug was kicked to the ground. Adrian bent down slightly, adjusting the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose. He looked at me trembling. “Miss Monroe, does your Ins post still stand? I’m here to pick you up.”

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Born as the school’s golden girl, I ended up swapping souls with the heaviest, poorest outcast in our high school. We exchanged secrets, shared our lives, and tried desperately to find a way back into our own bodies. Until one day, she vanished. The teachers said her entire family had moved out of the country. The next time I saw her was ten years later. She was standing next to my childhood sweetheart, bearing the title of the CEO’s wife. 1. On my fifteenth day trapped in Mia Jenkins’s body, I looked in the mirror and was still horrified by how ugly I was. A heavy, bloated frame, cheeks thick with fat, and dark, unkempt skin shining with grease. A greasy side-bang fell in clumps, completely hiding my left eye. The right eye that managed to peek through was squeezed into a tiny slit by the sheer volume of my cheeks. If I wanted to open my eyes wider, I practically had to pry the fat apart. Suppressing my disgust, I hurriedly splashed my face with cold water and sprinted toward the bus stop. “Sweetie, your breakfast!” Mia’s mother, walking with a heavy limp, anxiously hobbled after me, trying to hand me a plastic bag filled with a massive breakfast. I skidded to a halt, grabbed the bag from her hands, shoved it into my backpack, and resumed my sprint to the bus stop. I say “sprint,” but it was barely faster than a brisk walk. Mia was about 5’6″ but weighed nearly two hundred pounds. Even using every ounce of my strength, I could only shuffle my legs a tiny bit faster than before. Just from that minimal exertion, my heart was already pounding out of my chest, my lungs felt tight, and I was gasping for air. I had no idea how the original Mia ever survived P.E. class. By the time I squeezed onto the crowded morning bus, the thin cotton of my t-shirt was already soaked with sweat. “Excuse me, coming through.” I dropped into a seat in the very back row. The guy sitting next to the window immediately pinched his nose in disgust. I knew this guy. He was Caleb Rivers, one of my former admirers who had relentlessly brought me breakfast for three months straight back when I was Serena. But right now, he was pressing himself as close to the window as humanly possible, acting as if I was infected with a deadly virus. 2. “Tch. Smells like garbage. Gross.” Mia’s body was severely overweight, and since it was the middle of summer, I was already sweating profusely. There were obvious sweat stains pooling at the collar and armpits of my yellow shirt. Embarrassed, I shrank my shoulders, trying my hardest to make sure my arms didn’t accidentally brush against the guy next to me. No wonder the original Mia always wore a thick hoodie, even in the dead of summer. Thinking of all the cruel mockery she endured behind her back, my eyes welled up with tears. I was going to lose this weight. Before I figured out how to swap back, I was going to help Mia shed this extra baggage. Having survived the agonizing panic and confusion of the first few days, I was finally somewhat adapting to Mia’s body. And I owed it all to Mia. She had stayed by my side those first few days, comforting me, encouraging me. She was right. As long as we worked together, we’d find a way to switch back soon. Thinking of Mia warmed my heart. Before this, she was the quiet, isolated outcast. I had almost never seen her speak to anyone. She arrived at school alone, left alone, ate in the cafeteria alone, and went to the bathroom alone. Nobody in our class liked her. The girls ostracized her, and the boys were openly disgusted by her. If I, Serena Sterling, was the bright, untouchable moon hanging over Oakridge Prep, Mia was the rotting mud beneath everyone’s shoes. Anyone felt entitled to step on her. But despite her appearance, she had an incredibly warm and kind heart. In just two short weeks, our shared bizarre experience had made us the best of friends. 3. Panting heavily, I finally made it to the classroom just before the bell rang and collapsed into my desk in the very back row, taking deep breaths. Caleb Rivers lifted his eyelids, gave me a brief glance, and immediately turned around to sleep on his desk. Nobody in the class liked Mia, so the homeroom teacher had shoved her desk right next to the trash cans in the back corner. Oakridge Prep was the most elite private school in the state. Most of the students were children of politicians or billionaires. But Caleb was here on a sports scholarship, and like Mia, he came from a poor background. Naturally, the two worst seats in the class were reserved for them. Normally, these two minded their own business—one slept all day, the other spaced out. But my arrival had clearly broken their unspoken truce. “Caleb, want some eggs?” I pulled two hard-boiled eggs out of my pocket and shoved them into his hands, then placed a carton of milk on his desk. Since I was determined to lose weight, it had to start with my diet. Mia’s family was broke, but her parents doted on her unconditionally. They wore rags and skipped meals just to spend every penny on her. And Mia had a massive appetite. For breakfast alone, she would pack away five or six eggs, two cartons of milk, and four or five heavy breakfast sandwiches. Caleb turned around, staring at me intently for a moment before letting out a scoff. “Mia, don’t tell me you have a crush on me.” I looked at him, speechless. Caleb and my childhood sweetheart, Ethan Vance, were known as the “Twin Princes” of Oakridge. The girls were constantly fighting over who was hotter. Unlike Ethan’s refined, gentle, and polished prep-school vibe, Caleb was pure bad-boy energy. Sharp eyebrows, a strong nose, and a sun-kissed, athletic build. He was undeniably gorgeous, but his rebellious, untamed aura gave him a dangerous, street-smart edge. 4. “Don’t worry, I’m not into guys.” I drank my milk, pulled a heavy breakfast sandwich from my bag, and tossed it to him. “I’m starting a diet. It’s a waste to throw it away, and since we’ve been desk-mates for a while, consider it your lucky day.” Caleb’s parents had died in a car crash during middle school. He lived with his grandparents. I’d heard rumors that his grandparents were elderly and sick, surviving by collecting scrap metal just to put him through school. He was a growing teenager and an athlete who trained for hours every day. Sometimes during class, I could hear his stomach rumbling from starvation. Caleb dropped his careless attitude and looked at me seriously. “Alright. Guess I’ll do you a favor and eat it.” I finished my milk and glanced over at my own original desk. Strange. The bell was about to ring. Why wasn’t Serena here yet? In all the time we had been swapped, she hadn’t been late once. Was she sick? I sent a text to my own phone. No reply. I called. No one picked up. Caleb kicked my shoe lightly under the desk. Phones were strictly banned at Oakridge. Before the homeroom teacher walked down the aisle, I quickly shoved it into my bag. I was distracted the entire morning study period. Yesterday, Mia had stayed up late chatting with me. She confidently promised she had found a solution and that we’d be back in our own bodies by next week. The moment the bell rang, I jumped out of my seat and jogged to the homeroom teacher’s podium. “Mr. Davis, where is Serena? Why isn’t she in class?” The balding teacher gave me a weird look, clearly shocked that someone like Mia would have anything to do with the golden girl, Serena Sterling. “She transferred.” The summer sun was beating through the windows, but I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. “Trans… transferred?” Mr. Davis pushed his slipping glasses up his nose. “Serena’s entire family relocated to London. She officially withdrew late last week. A few of the girls even threw a going-away party for her over the weekend. Did you not know?” I didn’t hear a single word after that, because the world faded to black and I fainted on the spot. Right before I closed my eyes, I thought I saw Caleb sprinting toward me. 5. “Hey. Are you awake?” I forced my eyes open. Everything was stark white—the walls, the curtains, the bedsheets. The school nurse, Mrs. Evans, was sitting beside me, looking at me gently. “It’s too hot outside, you got heatstroke. Rest for a bit. I got you some electrolytes.” I sat up, my head still spinning. I sat there in a daze for a long moment before it suddenly hit me why I had fainted. Mia! Mia took my body and moved to London! I jumped out of bed and bolted for the door, but because I stood up too fast, my vision whited out again. “Whoa, what’s the rush? I already excused you from your morning classes. See? You’re dizzy again. You can’t focus in class like this. Just lay back down.” Mrs. Evans grabbed my arm and forced me back onto the bed. I was so panicked I was on the verge of tears. No! I had to find Mia! I had to make her explain this! Ignoring my dizzy spells, I shoved my shoes on and stumbled out the door. Mrs. Evans tried to grab me twice but failed, muttering under her breath, “Kids these days… the academic pressure is really driving them insane!” Leaving the clinic, I headed straight for the school gates. My pale, sickly, sweaty face startled the security guard. “Hey kid, aren’t your parents picking you up? You don’t look too good. I can’t let you leave alone.” “My parents are waiting right outside the gate, sir.” I threw together a quick lie, jogged out the gates, and flagged down a yellow cab. 6. My family lived in the most exclusive gated community in the city. When the cab pulled up to the estate gates, I realized the total amount of cash on me was about $5—not even enough to cover the fare. The driver took one look at my panicked, teenage face, waved his hand generously, and let me off the hook for the remainder. When I finally ran up to the front door of my mansion, I found it locked tight. I couldn’t get in. I scrambled over the side gate into the garden and pressed my face against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything inside was draped in white dust covers—the velvet sofas, the dining table, even the giant teddy bear statue I loved so much. The sprawling mansion was completely empty. It was 9:00 AM. Usually, our housekeeper Maria would be vacuuming, and Chef Andre would be in the kitchen prepping my organic mid-day meals. They moved. They really moved! I collapsed onto the front steps, my mind completely blank. My parents were workaholics. I was practically raised by nannies. It was the nannies who attended my parent-teacher conferences. I saw my parents maybe a handful of times a year. Honestly, they probably knew their executive board better than they knew me. My phone! Right, I could still call them! With trembling hands, I dialed the number for my father that I knew by heart. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached is no longer in service…” Disconnected? Refusing to believe it, I dialed it again. Still disconnected. I called my original phone number—disconnected. I called my mom—straight to voicemail. Who else? Who else could I find? 7. My grandfather lived permanently in Florida, and my mom’s side of the family was in Boston. Both of my parents were only children, so I had no other relatives in the state. I wrung my hands anxiously. No, I had to find Mia. I wasn’t going to let her steal my life like this. I smacked my forehead. I was so stupid. I could go find Ethan! Ethan Vance lived in the exact same gated community as me. We had been in the same class since kindergarten. We were quintessential childhood sweethearts. When we were little, we used to play house and pretend to get married. His parents adored me. His mom used to half-joke to my mom that they should just arrange our marriage now. I stood up, wiped my tears, and sprinted toward Ethan’s mansion. The front doors to the Vance estate were wide open. Several maids were bustling around cleaning. When they saw me, they looked shocked. “Excuse me, who are you looking for?” A middle-aged woman walked over, wiping her hands on a towel. “I… I’m looking for Ethan.” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt stupid. Ethan should be in AP Physics right now. Why did I run to his house? “Young Master Ethan transferred to a school in London last week. Are you his classmate?” The world spun, and I crashed onto the driveway. Ethan went to London too?! “Oh my god, honey, are you okay?” 8. I stumbled out of the Vance estate in a daze. Holding onto my absolute last shred of hope, I dialed Ethan’s cell number. “Hello?” “Ethan! It’s me! It’s Serena!” I almost jumped out of my skin with excitement. Ethan was my best friend. He would definitely recognize me! “Mia?” Even though the original Mia was heavy and unkempt, her voice was beautiful. It was clear and melodic, like a babbling brook in the middle of summer, or wind chimes caught in a breeze. “I’m in Mia’s body right now, but I’m actually Serena! We swapped souls, just like in the movies! I swear, I—” “Mia,” Ethan sighed, cutting me off. “I know you’re unhappy with your life, but delusion is a mental illness. You need to get help.” “Serena told me everything. You constantly hallucinate that you’re her, and you desperately want to live her life.” “That’s exactly why she changed her mind and agreed to move to London with me.” “I don’t know how you got my number, but I’m changing it today.” “I hope you stop harassing Serena from now on. Take care of yourself.” Beep. Beep. Beep. The call ended. I stood frozen under the blazing sun. A jolt of electricity shot from the soles of my feet straight into my heart, leaving half my body completely numb. When I first realized we swapped bodies, my first instinct was to tell my parents. But Mia stopped me. She said they would just think we were crazy, and that we should figure it out ourselves. She asked me if I wanted to experience what it was like to live someone else’s life for a few days. She said it was thrilling and that it should be our little secret. She told me she had found a way to switch back, and that it would happen soon. I was such an idiot! From this moment forward, I was only Mia. The poor, academically average, clinically obese, isolated, ghost-like Mia. 9. I walked all the way back under the blistering sun. Even though I was wearing thin sweatpants, the inner thighs were completely chafed and bleeding. This body was too heavy. The fat rubbed together painfully with every step. No wonder Mia rarely walked and never left her seat during passing periods. My body was in agony, but I masochistically kept walking, drenched in sweat like it was raining. I shouldn’t have trusted her so easily. I shouldn’t have handed over my deepest secrets. But regret wouldn’t save me now. I needed to plan my future. Even if I was dragged down into the mud, I was going to bloom into the most brilliant flower. By the time I walked back to the school gates, it was already afternoon. My clothes had soaked through, dried, and soaked through again, emitting a sour, stale odor. It was lunch period. The classroom was mostly empty, with most students down in the cafeteria. Caleb’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Where did you go? I checked the nurse’s office after class and you weren’t there.” I grabbed my water bottle and chugged half of it in one breath. “I went home for a bit.” “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” Because I had been bringing him breakfast lately, Caleb had warmed up to me considerably. He dropped his bad-boy attitude and looked at me with genuine concern. I pulled my textbooks from my desk and gave him a bitter smile. “Nothing. Just realized I’m a complete idiot.” “Weirdo.” Caleb scratched the back of his head, turned around, and didn’t pry any further. 10. At 5:00 AM, just as the sky was turning a hazy gray, I was already awake. I was the only one left in the tiny, cramped courtyard. Mia’s parents ran a small breakfast food truck. Every day, they woke up at 2 or 3 AM to prep, and by 4 AM, they were out on the streets selling. I washed my face, changed into workout clothes, pushed open the squeaky courtyard gate, and started power-walking down the street. This body was too heavy to run. Even just power-walking nearly took half my life. After thirty minutes of wheezing and panting, I returned to the courtyard and started strength training. I say “strength training,” but it was mostly high knees, arm circles, and step-ups on the porch. Mia’s body was incredibly weak. Just lifting my arms made my muscles burn and tremble. Push-ups were entirely out of the question. After a solid thirty minutes of training, my clothes were drenched. The light gray fabric had turned charcoal. Checking my watch, it was 6:00 AM. I went back inside, showered, changed into my uniform, and grabbed my backpack to catch the bus. Breakfast, prepared by Mia’s mom, was warming on the stove. Thirty dollars in cash was left on the table for my allowance. A bowl of boiled eggs, five massive pork buns, and two cartons of milk. Mia’s parents spoiled her. No matter how exhausted they were, they always made sure she had a massive breakfast. On weekends, they would splurge on beef and shrimp at the market to make sure she got enough nutrition. She had her own kind of happiness. When I was Serena, I rarely even sat at the same table as my parents, let alone ate a meal cooked by them. I packed the breakfast into my bag. Thinking for a moment, I ran into the courtyard and picked two crisp cucumbers and a few bright red tomatoes. Mia’s mom was hardworking. She kept the courtyard spotless and even built a small vegetable garden on the south side. Most of their daily produce came straight from there. 11. Arriving at the classroom, I routinely pulled the breakfast from my bag and handed it to Caleb. He had gone from initially refusing to now accepting it naturally. After taking it, he looked at me seriously and said: “I owe you for this. If anyone bullies you from now on, drop my name.” “No thanks. Nobody is bullying me.” I opened my books and focused entirely on the coursework. Mia used to tell me that all roads lead to Rome, but some people are just born in Rome. She said she envied me. Envied me so much she wanted to die. She said I played piano, danced ballet, and spoke French and English like a native. I wore designer clothes, lived in a mansion, and lived a dream-like princess life. But she didn’t know that the “princess” woke up at 5:00 AM every single day to study. On weekends and holidays, when everyone else was playing, I was either in the dance studio or at the piano. From the time I was five until now, I hadn’t had a single day off to just play. My life, aside from studying, was more studying. My parents believed in elite grooming. They believed in talent, but they believed in blood, sweat, and tears even more. When I was little, the only time my parents would smile at me, or reward me with a family dinner, was when I worked myself to the bone and brought home a first-place trophy. In our social circle, I was the role model every parent praised, and the ultimate nightmare for every other kid. Mia thought my excellence was just a byproduct of my wealthy family. But she didn’t know that excellence is a habit. A hardworking soul cannot be chained down by any physical body. 12. Caleb started glancing at me frequently, constantly trying to strike up a conversation. “Mia, why does it feel like you’ve been replaced by a different person?” “You’re not spacing out in class anymore. The way you’re grinding, it’s like you’re trying to get into Harvard. It’s kinda scary.” My response was a massive eye roll. There were only two months left until final exams. As the top private school in the state, Oakridge offered incredibly generous scholarships to stay competitive with the public schools. Our school had an “Outstanding Improvement Award.” Every semester, the student who showed the most progress would get a full-ride scholarship for the next year, plus a ten-thousand-dollar cash prize. The cash was secondary. My goal was the full-ride scholarship. Mia’s cousin, who was the same age, had gotten into the best public high school in the city. Feeling competitive, Mia had thrown a massive tantrum, threatening self-harm until her parents agreed to send her to Oakridge. Coincidentally, Mia’s dad had a friend in the admissions office who owed him a favor, which was the only reason she got in. But Oakridge’s tuition was astronomical. A single year of tuition practically drained the Jenkins family’s entire annual income. Her parents lived like paupers just to spend everything on her. I wasn’t Mia. I couldn’t comfortably drain their life savings with a clear conscience. “Take out yesterday’s pop quiz. Those who forgot it, you know the drill. Pick up your chair and go stand in the back.” Mr. Harrison, the AP Calculus teacher, walked into the classroom, pushed up his glasses, and glared at us coldly. Because of his brutal teaching methods and dark scowls, the students secretly called him “The Grim Reaper.” Yesterday’s quiz was brutally hard. I had stayed up until midnight finishing it. Mia’s mom had specially warmed up some milk for me, watching me work with tears in her eyes, heartbroken that I was studying so late. I rummaged through my bag. Nothing. I calmly searched it again. Still nothing. Huh? Seeing my serious expression, Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Try-hard, don’t tell me you forgot to do it?” I gave him a bitter smile. “I did it. Just forgot to bring it.” 13. For a girl, being forced to stand at the back of the classroom holding a chair over her head for an entire period was incredibly humiliating. The girls who had been punished like this before usually cried the entire time. Some with weaker constitutions would even fake sick and go home early, unable to face the class’s mockery. I had forgotten assignments before too, but as the valedictorian, I always got special treatment. But I was Mia now, not Serena. I instantly broke into a cold sweat. A nearly two-hundred-pound, heavily bullied girl standing in the back holding a chair… Plus, with my current physical stamina, I’d probably only last a minute before collapsing. Who knows how the class would mock me then? Seeing my face turn paper-white, Caleb ruffled my hair. He flashed a brilliant, cocky smile, his teeth shining brighter than the sun outside. “What are you panicking for? I got you.” Caleb shoved his own quiz paper onto my desk, stood up without a care in the world, grabbed his chair, and swaggered to the back of the class. Mr. Harrison shot him a look of pure disgust, as if Caleb were a piece of trash. I looked down at the quiz paper Caleb handed me. It was practically blank. He had bubbled ‘C’ for all the multiple-choice questions, scribbled random numbers in the short answers, and left the free-response essays entirely blank. My initial wave of gratitude vanished, replaced by a surge of anger. Caleb was actually incredibly smart. He had a photographic memory. He could skim a dense article three times and memorize the gist of it perfectly. His family was poor. Even if they were rich, he shouldn’t be wasting his talent and throwing his life away like this. No. I couldn’t let Caleb rot away like this. After all, we were practically friends now. 14. Dealing with a cocky, narcissistic teenage boy like Caleb? I had plenty of methods. “Caleb, wanna make a bet?” “Whoever gets a higher score on the finals, the loser has to become the winner’s minion. They have to stand at attention when the winner walks by and call them ‘Boss’.” Caleb looked me up and down seriously for a moment before letting out a dismissive snort. “You? Sure, my grades are worse than yours right now, but you’re giving 90% effort, and I’m giving 10%. I’m a genius, you know that right?” “I just don’t feel like studying. If I actually tried, heh, I’d scare you to death.” I nodded expressionlessly. “Then it’s a bet. After finals, don’t forget to call me Boss Mia.” “Heh, you little chubby…” Mid-sentence, Caleb aggressively slapped his own mouth, looking annoyed with himself. I winked at him. “I won’t be chubby for long.” Caleb let out an exaggerated groan. “Jesus, Mia! Please don’t ever make that face again, it’s terrifying!” “Get lost!” My relationship with Caleb improved drastically. Because of him, the attitude of the girls in class toward me suddenly became incredibly warm. “Mia, could you pass this letter to Caleb for me?” “Mia, can you give this bag of snacks to Caleb?” “Mia, we’re going to the amusement park this weekend. You should come! Oh, and ask Caleb if he wants to come too.” Caleb rejected all of them. He took the snacks, ignored the letters, and turned down every invitation.

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My brother was the internet’s favorite punching bag, thoroughly blacklisted and desperate for any kind of traffic. To salvage his career, he dragged me onto a family reality show. Around others, he walked on eggshells, so terrified of the haters that he’d probably apologize to a stray dog if he bumped into it. But around the trolls? I chose violence. My brother: “Chloe, keep a low profile, I’m begging you.” The fans: “So satisfying, keep dragging them! We love to see it!” 01 I had just gotten back to the States from studying abroad when my brother accepted a gig on a family-oriented reality show. He invited our mom. She took a sip of her tea and said coldly, “I’m not going. It’s too embarrassing.” He invited our dad. Dad didn’t even look up from his mountain of paperwork. “For fifty million dollars a day, I’ll consider it.” My brother: “…” Left with no options, he turned his pleading eyes to me. I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s just a reality show. Your big sister will go with you.” Our mom looked at me with an expression that screamed you have no idea what you’re in for. My brother was so moved he practically sobbed, pulling me into a massive hug. “Chloe, you are the absolute best. I’m so grateful for you.” I patted his head affectionately. “Look at you, Hayes. You’re a big star now. Having a brother like you is my pride and joy.” Hayes flushed with embarrassment. “Um, Chloe… could you maybe check the internet first?” I had rushed back home so quickly that I wasn’t caught up on domestic entertainment news. Smiling, I opened up X. And my smile instantly froze. In a twisted sense of the word, he was indeed “popular.” Ever since he debuted two years ago, his name had been synonymous with mass cyberbullying. His singing and dancing were painfully average, yet he somehow secured a top debut spot on a massive idol survival show. The internet accused him of crying his way to the top and turned his dance practice videos into “senior citizen physical therapy” memes. In that moment, I deeply regretted saying, “You are my pride and joy.” And very soon, my brother would deeply regret saying, “I’m so grateful for you.” 02 The show, Dearest Family, was filmed at a luxury resort. It was a seven-day, 24/7 continuous livestream format. Drones followed us the second we stepped foot on the mountain path. When Hayes and I arrived at the base of the hill, another pair of guests was already waiting. The guy looked about twenty-five, tall with a slight tan, accompanied by a girl in casual activewear who looked visibly annoyed. They were whispering to each other, but the girl’s sour expression spoke volumes. When she saw us, she tilted her chin up and scoffed loudly. Hayes leaned in and whispered in my ear, “That’s Connor Vance. During the survival show two years ago, he ranked twelfth and got eliminated. The whole internet says I stole his spot in the final lineup.” I instantly understood. The producers were staging a bloodbath for ratings. As we walked over, Connor lowered his eyes, looking perfectly meek and subservient as he greeted us. Hayes, practically traumatized by the internet’s hatred, was walking on thin ice. He extended his hand, his smile bordering on desperate people-pleasing. Even so, the livestream chat was already tearing him apart: “Connor is so sweet. I can’t believe he has to film with the guy who stole his dream.” “Seeing Hayes’s fake, pretentious face makes me sick.” “Connor is too nice for initiating the greeting. Hayes has zero social awareness.” “Take away his pretty face, and what does Hayes even have against Connor?!” I stood there, completely deadpan, watching Connor flash a painfully “friendly” smile. “You must be Hayes’s sister,” Connor said. “I’m Connor, and this is my sister, Hailey. She won the National Youth Dance Championship last year.” Right on cue, Hailey smugly raised her chin, looking me up and down with sheer disdain. “Wow, I didn’t even know Hayes had a sister.” Connor quickly jumped in, playing the peacemaker. “Hayes doesn’t like bringing up his family in public. It’s totally normal you didn’t know.” Hailey scoffed again. “Makes sense. For someone who only debuted because of his face, his family probably isn’t much to brag about anyway.” 03 The Vance siblings came out swinging. Whether the producers had scripted this or not, the live chat was eating it up. “True, I tried looking up Hayes’s background online and found nothing.” “Some influencers analyzed it and said his family is probably poor, which is why he had to sell a sob story to debut.” My brow furrowed slightly. Seeing my reaction, Hayes secretly squeezed my hand. “Chloe, please bear with it. The fans are terrifying.” While we waited for the rest of the cast to arrive, Connor and Hailey fired off like a synchronized machine gun. “The Youth Dance Championship—do you even know what that is? Oh, sorry, I forgot you probably don’t study dance. Of course you wouldn’t know.” “A national title is just okay, I guess. My real goal is to take home an international trophy within five years.” The chat flooded with praise: “Connor’s family is elite. His sister is so talented!” “A dance champion! What a massive slap in the face to a certain someone who debuted with zero talent.” “His sister isn’t even defending him. Looks like that whole family is just empty heads and pretty faces.” The more Hailey talked, the more arrogant she got. Suddenly, I turned to Hayes. “Go grab me a water.” Hayes nodded obediently and scurried off to find a PA. The second he was out of earshot, I turned my deadpan gaze to Connor. “Connor, was it? Your sister is a dance champion. What about you? What titles do you hold? What honors have you won?” I pulled out my phone, opening a search engine right in front of him. “I just looked you up. The only thing attached to your name is ’12th place on a reality show.’ For someone who loves to show off this much, if you had a single other achievement, your PR team would have bought billboards for it by now.” Connor: “…” I smoothly pivoted to Hailey. “National dance champion? Which competition? Which circuit? What scale? Last I checked, there are over two dozen youth dance competitions in the States every year, and about fifteen of them hold less weight than your brother’s 12th place finish.” Hailey: “…” 04 Their faces went from flushed red to a sickly pale green. It was glorious. I casually looked away. Sigh. I should probably hold back a little. Don’t want to bully the kids too hard. I was ready to call a truce, but they weren’t. Hailey glared at me, refusing to back down. “That’s because my brother is humble! Everyone knows Connor carried Hayes on America’s Next Idol!” “Oh,” I replied flatly. She choked on her anger, taking a deep breath. “The title I won last year was for Dance Dynasty. That’s infinitely better than whatever you two losers have going on.” I actually remembered Dance Dynasty. My nine-year-old niece won it three years in a row. She actually declined their invitation last year because she thought the judging format was garbage. Listening to Hailey’s arrogant bragging, I frowned. A drone hovered above us, and a producer was standing just out of frame. I walked right up to him, pointing at Hailey. “She’s launching personal attacks. Is the production team not going to step in?” The producer made a hand gesture. “This is a live, unfiltered broadcast. The directing team does not interfere during recording.” I feigned a look of sudden realization. “So, no rules against cursing people out either?” “We are instructed to remain hands-off.” “Understood.” It was a simple, clarifying conversation, but the live chat lost its collective mind. “What is she doing? Tattling? Is she in kindergarten? So gross!” “Just like Hayes! Utterly pathetic.” “Hailey might be cocky, but at least she has the talent to back it up. Can this woman do anything besides cry to the producers?” “The show obviously wants drama. Snitching makes her look like a clown.” “Hailey is just being blunt and honest. Chloe is pulling sneaky, underhanded stunts.” 05 By the time I walked back, the last two pairs of guests had arrived. Hailey was currently giving an incredibly animated recount of her Dance Dynasty performance from last year. I listened for a moment before speaking up. “Dance Dynasty, huh? Sounds familiar.” Everyone subconsciously looked at me. Hailey’s smile stiffened, but she couldn’t hide her smugness. “Pretty impressive, right?” I smiled back. “They invited me, but I didn’t go.” “Why?” “Because I was overseas at the Global Apex Dance Championship.” I had completely hijacked her narrative. Her eyes went wide with disbelief. “What place did you get?!” Anyone in the industry knew the Apex Championship was the undisputed, most prestigious dance competition on the planet. The live chat erupted: “She’s totally bluffing. Does she even know the prestige of Apex?” “Only the absolute elite compete there. If she’s that good, why does Hayes suck so much?” I slowly lifted my gaze, meeting the expectant stares of everyone in the group. Deadpan, I replied, “Oh. I was a judge.” Hailey: “…” The silence hung in the air for a brutal ten seconds. Finally, Hailey’s voice cracked an octave. “You’re lying! You’re barely in your twenties. That’s impossible!” I tilted my head. “The Apex Championship is split into twelve regional divisions. I was just a judge for one of the regionals, not the grand finale.” I paused, my eyes drifting over to a shell-shocked Connor. I let out a soft chuckle. “Twelve divisions. So funny. It matches your rank exactly.” Connor: “…” Hailey was practically stomping her feet. “Impossible! You’re definitely making this up.” I looked at her like she was an idiot. “The judges’ roster is public record online. Oh, and right—my name is Chloe Sterling.” 06 At first, the audience reacted exactly like Hailey. A unified wall of denial, aggressively accusing me of being a pathological liar. Until someone posted a screenshot of the official Apex Championship judges’ roster. There it was. Under the Sixth Regional Division, right in the middle of a list of foreign veterans with impossibly long names, the crisp, simple name “Chloe Sterling” stood out like a beacon. “Holy sh*t. She’s actually a judge.” “My god. Just qualifying to compete there is insane. To be on the judging panel… how good is she?!” “Okay, she’s amazing, but Hayes still sucks, right? The fact that he stole Connor’s spot doesn’t change just because his sister is a prodigy.” “Exactly! Don’t lose focus! Chloe might be a god, but Hayes still belongs in the trash.” “Am I the only one who thinks Chloe is kind of savage? LMAO look at Connor’s face, he looks like he’s going to throw up.” The tension was broken when Hayes came jogging back, happily clutching a bottle of water. I took it naturally and twisted the cap off. “What took so long?” “The crew was short-handed with the set dressing, so I helped out a bit.” “Oh. Well, everyone’s here. Let’s head up.” Hayes finally looked around, flashing a polite, sunny smile at the new arrivals. Then, he shuffled closer to me, lowering his voice. “Chloe, is it just me, or is the vibe super weird? What did you guys talk about while I was gone?” Connor and Hailey’s venomous glares instantly burned into the side of my head. I remained perfectly unfazed, tilting my head innocently. “Huh? Weird vibe? Not at all. We’re getting along fabulously.” 07 The four pairs of guests—eight people in total—arrived at the resort right around noon. The estate was massive, featuring a luxury hotel up front and sprawling orchards and farms in the back. True to form, the production crew abandoned us the second we dropped our bags. We were entirely responsible for our own survival. According to the rules of the previous season, this was the moment where the cast divided up the chores. Connor stepped into the center of the room, wearing a warm, perfectly manufactured smile. “Hailey and I will take care of the cooking. Lexi, how about you and your mom hit the farm and harvest some vegetables? Marcus, would it be too much trouble for you and your girlfriend to wash the produce and prep the rice?” Everyone had just hiked up a mountain. They were exhausted, sprawled across the living room furniture, completely drained. Lexi, a young up-and-coming pop singer, was terrified of being branded “lazy” by the internet. She forced a pained smile. “Sure.” Marcus, a veteran actor who knew exactly how reality TV editing worked, didn’t argue either. Finally, Connor’s gaze landed on Hayes and me. I was curled up deep in the sofa. As the camera panned over, everyone in the room—and the thousands watching online—clearly heard my phone blast an enthusiastic digital voice: “Three of a kind! Read ’em and weep!” “…” Hayes was sitting bolt upright next to me, looking like a nervous middle-schooler on his first day of class. Seeing Connor stare at us, he anxiously tugged my sleeve. “Chloe. Time to work.” I was currently annihilating my opponents in Texas Hold’em. I ignored him. Hayes awkwardly stood up and asked Connor, “Is there anything we can help with?” Connor’s expression softened slightly, thinking he had won. “Would you guys mind taking care of the dishes after lunch?” “All in!” I happily tapped my screen. Without looking up, I said, “Yes, we would mind.” Connor’s brow furrowed. “Lunch is only meaningful if it’s a collaborative group effort.” “Are you out of your mind?” I shifted my weight, starting a new hand. “We eat to stay alive. You’re only standing there acting like the boss because the cameras are rolling and everyone here is too polite to tell you off. Try assigning chores like that in your own house and see if your mom doesn’t slap you across the face.” “…” 08 Connor was visibly suppressing a vein popping in his forehead. “It’s just washing the dishes. You won’t even do something that simple?” I shrugged. “If it’s so simple, you and your sister can do it.” Connor finally snapped. “Everyone else is contributing. Does your conscience really not bother you, sitting there playing games while we work?” “Weren’t you the one handing out the assignments from the jump?” I finally looked up, my expression the picture of innocence. “You’re exploiting their good manners. Don’t try to morally kidnap me, sweetheart. I don’t have any morals to kidnap.” “…” Seeing her brother getting publicly humiliated, Hailey stormed over. “Chloe Sterling! I don’t care if you’re a world-class judge, you don’t get to act like a diva here! You’re contributing nothing! Do you expect us to cook and serve it to you on a silver platter?” Hayes tried to intervene, but hearing Hailey insult me made his protective instincts flare. “My sister isn’t like that!” he argued quietly. The live chat was a warzone: “Chloe’s attitude is absolute trash.” “Is she seriously waiting for them to feed her?” “The Sterling siblings are both leeches. Yuck!” Connor took a deep breath, playing the exhausted martyr. “I’m not obligated to cook for you. Since you refuse to help, you two can figure out your own lunch.” “Figure it out on our own?!” Hayes panicked, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Chloe, I didn’t even know you knew how to turn on a stove!” I stared at him. “Do you know how to wash dishes?” Before he could answer, I rolled my eyes. “You don’t even know how to wash your own socks.” Hayes: “…” Having delivered his ultimatum, Connor led the rest of the cast out to work. I nestled back into the couch and booted up another round of poker. Fifteen minutes later, Lexi returned with a basket, looking miserable. “There are chickens and fish out back, but my mom and I have no idea how to catch them.” Connor glanced at the pathetic pile of greens in her basket and offered a comforting smile. “It’s fine. A vegetarian meal is healthy.” He said that, but when a completely meatless, severely lacking spread of vegetables was finally placed on the dining table, everyone sat there awkwardly, unsure of how to pretend they were excited. Despite the depressing meal, Hailey couldn’t resist a victory lap. “Time to eat! My brother’s cooking is incredible, you guys have to try this.” She cast a pointed, mocking glance toward the living room where Hayes and I were sitting. “Looks like some people are going hungry today. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. I don’t feel sorry for them.” The second the words left her mouth, a booming voice echoed from the front lobby. “Delivery for Chloe Sterling?!” I kicked Hayes’s shin. “Go get it.” He looked bewildered. “Who is it, Chloe?” I was currently calculating pot odds, not looking up. “Oh. Uber Eats.” “…” 09 The dining table was massive, which only made the few plates of sad vegetables look even more pathetic. Hayes and I began unpacking the delivery, and within seconds, we had completely covered our half of the table. Crispy fried chicken, gourmet burgers, loaded spicy bowls, and a mountain of fries. The moment the lids came off, an overpowering, mouth-watering aroma hijacked the entire room. Hailey stared at us, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “You… you can’t order delivery!” I happily bit into a piece of perfectly fried chicken. “Is there a rule that says I can’t?” Hailey choked. “No one has ever ordered takeout on a reality survival show!” I took a massive sip of my Coke and looked at Hayes. “Is that true?” He took a very polite, reserved bite of his spicy bowl. “Yeah, Chloe. Never.” “Well, whatever. The crew didn’t stop the driver.” Right then, I heard a very distinct, very loud gulp. It was Lexi. There was absolutely no way the two of us could finish this feast. I waved my hand at the others. “Come on over, there’s plenty!” Lexi looked like she might cry from gratitude. “Can we really?” “Of course you can.” By the end of it, even Marcus and his girlfriend had abandoned the boiled cabbage and joined our side of the table. Connor and Hailey’s faces looked like they had just swallowed live wasps. They sat in suffocating silence, glaring daggers at us. Finally, they snapped. They slammed their chopsticks down. “Chloe, you are crossing a line.” I elegantly wiped my mouth with a napkin. “What did I do?” Hailey pointed a trembling finger at the still-massive pile of food. “You ordered way more than you needed! You’re just trying to buy everyone off and isolate us!” I was genuinely speechless at the sheer audacity. I gave her a thumbs up. “Usually, when assholes talk sh*t, it’s just for laughs. But you? You’ve elevated it to an art form.” Hearing that, Hayes nearly dropped his chopsticks, frantically reaching for my arm. “Chloe, don’t—” Unfortunately for him, he forgot one crucial detail about me. When I’m full, I have way too much energy. And when I have too much energy, I like to start fires. 10 Hailey’s eyes instantly welled up with angry tears. Connor rushed to his sister’s defense, his “nice guy” mask slipping. “Chloe, she was just trying to be considerate. She didn’t want to see everyone’s hard work go to waste. You ordered an absurd amount of food for two people. It’s perfectly normal for Hailey to question your motives.” I couldn’t even be bothered to fully open my eyes. “Mind your own business. I spent my own money. What right do you have to police my bank account?” Hearing me indirectly call him a meddling dog, Connor’s perfectly manicured composure shattered. “I was just trying to reason with you! Why do you keep insulting us?” I let out an “Oh,” and looked him dead in the eye, perfectly serious. “Not only will I insult you to your face, but if you’re ever having trouble hearing me, I’ll happily carve it right into your tombstone.” “…” Connor and Hailey stormed off, absolutely seething. Hayes looked like he was preparing for the apocalypse. “We’re dead. Chloe, the audience is definitely calling for our heads right now.” Since I was full and had nothing better to do, I pulled out my phone and opened the livestream. He was right. A massive chunk of the chat was screaming for our blood. “Chloe is so arrogant! Connor was just trying to be a good team player!” “She does zero work and has the audacity to roast people. Where did the producers even find her?” “Get Hayes and Chloe off my screen. They are insufferable.” But surprisingly, a counter-wave was fighting back. “Honestly, she’s not wrong. The show literally didn’t ban delivery.” “Yeah, our poor Lexi was exhausted and still forced to go pick vegetables. It was hard to watch.” “Marcus is a total carnivore. Forcing him to eat plain lettuce is a crime against humanity.” “Am I the only one who thinks Chloe is kind of a badass LMAO. I think I’m falling in love.” I watched the scrolling text for two seconds, then leaned over and whispered to Hayes. “Did you actually steal Connor’s debut spot? Did Dad pull strings for you?” Hayes looked horrified. “No! I snuck off to do the show behind Dad’s back. I would never dare ask him to rig it.” “Then how did you…” “I honestly have no idea! During the initial evaluations, I was graded a ‘D’. Then the second ranking hit and suddenly I had hundreds of thousands of votes. They confiscated our phones, so I didn’t even know who was voting for me. I was completely clueless when they announced I was second.” 11 That afternoon, Connor loudly rallied the rest of the cast to go explore the resort grounds. Noticeably, he didn’t invite Hayes and me. We were currently huddled on the couch, scrolling through the voting analytics and comment sections from his time in the survival show’s boot camp. Connor and Hailey shot us looks of supreme pity before they left, treating us like absolute idiots. I knew exactly what they were thinking. Going out meant the drones and the main crew would follow them, guaranteeing maximum screen time and traffic. By staying in the hotel, we were actively sabotaging our own relevance. Connor practically strutted out the door. At 2:00 PM, after we had finished combing through the data, I shot Hayes a look. Hayes hesitated. “Chloe, is this really a good idea…?” “Hurry up. Stop stalling.” He took a deep breath and opened an app on his phone. At the exact same moment, I turned to the single, stationary camera left in the living room. “Hayes and I are going live on IG right now. Room 645183. Come through if you’re interested.” Live chat: ??? Three seconds later, a tidal wave of viewers crashed into the livestream. Hayes and I were comfortably lounging on the couch, cracking sunflower seeds. I watched the chaotic blur of the chat and smiled. “Slow down, ask one at a time. No need to rush.” There were thousands of people, and the vast majority opened with immediate, aggressive insults. I casually multi-tasked, banning accounts with one hand while addressing them with the other. “Your mouth is pretty filthy. Did you forget to wipe after you talked out of your ass?” Once I had thoroughly terrified the chat into a semblance of order, I started picking questions. Chat: “How do you justify your brother stealing Connor’s debut spot?” I countered with a question of my own. “If you beat the guy in second place, what place are you in?” Chat: “First.” I nodded. “Exactly. Connor ranked twelfth. Why aren’t you going after him for being completely useless and failing to beat the guy in eleventh place? What does his failure have to do with my brother?” Chat: “…Wait, that kind of makes sense?” Chat: “But Hayes can’t even sing or dance! He didn’t deserve to debut. If they kicked him out, Connor would have made the cut!” Their questions were sharp, and Hayes looked at me like a kicked puppy. I shifted my weight, a mocking smile playing on my lips. “Are you guys all Connor’s diehard fans?” Chat: “No, we’re just casual viewers! We just hate seeing injustice.” I laughed out loud. “So, casual viewers are allowed to hate my brother, but casual viewers aren’t allowed to like him? If random people can passionately defend Connor, why couldn’t random people passionately vote for Hayes to debut?” A few commenters panicked. “Hayes has no talent! What would casual viewers even like about him?” “His face,” I stated, completely deadpan. “If Connor’s aggressively average, tragically rushed face can somehow attract fans, why wouldn’t people vote for someone as gorgeous as my brother? Since when is being hot a crime?” Chat: “…Okay, fair point.” Because, objectively speaking, Hayes’s face was a lethal weapon.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “435862”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During the Q&A segment of our dating reality show, the producer asked me: “Have you dated before?” I gave a polite, reserved answer: “Yes, but our personalities didn’t match, so we broke up.” Next, they interviewed the A-list actor, Liam Sterling. He answered: “Yes. My ex-girlfriend is actually on this dating show right now.” The production crew, smelling the drama, excitedly pressed: “Care to share which dating show?” The A-list actor smiled faintly at the camera: “The one we’re filming right now.” The internet exploded that very day. Netizens turned into detectives, trying to hunt down which female cast member was the actor’s ex. Meanwhile, I quietly backed away from him on set, hoping to distance myself as much as humanly possible. 1 Love Signals was a celebrity dating reality show that generated massive hype before it even aired. The highest buzz was surrounding the “Ice & Fire” pairing: A-list actor Liam Sterling and the rising pop star/actress, Chloe Vance. They had just finished airing a wildly popular fantasy drama where they played star-crossed, enemies-to-lovers. When Chloe made her entrance, the live chat went absolutely wild— “Ahhh Chloe is here! She’s so gorgeous!” “Chloe and Liam! Are they coming on this show to officially announce their relationship?!” “I’m shipping them so hard, the Ice & Fire ship is too sweet!” My reception was vastly different. When I stepped onto the screen, the live chat was flooded with boos— “Why did the show invite Maya Lin? She makes me sick!” “Maya is such a clout-chaser. She’s obviously just here to leech off the Ice & Fire ship.” “Bad publicity is still publicity, I guess. Some people have no shame.” This show utilized a live-stream format. Every weekend, an edited highlight reel would be uploaded to major streaming platforms like Netflix and Hulu. I was the first to enter the “Heartbeat Villa” set up by the production team. I chose the most secluded seat in the corner and sat down. The second person to walk in was Liam Sterling. My ex-boyfriend. 2 I shifted in my seat, subtly trying to put more distance between us. He raised an eyebrow. Before he could even say hello, a bright, giggling voice echoed from the grand entrance. “Oh my gosh, you guys are already here!” “Maya, long time no see!” “Liam, we meet again!” Chloe Vance was wearing a cute crop top and a denim skirt, looking incredibly youthful and bubbly. As soon as she walked in, she acted like she owned the place, plopping down right next to Liam and happily chatting him up. The production team had purposefully set up a large screen showing the live chat. I glanced at it— “Wow wow wow! The Ice & Fire ship is feeding us!” “So sweet! The way Liam looks at Chloe is pure fire!” “Please just announce it already, I’ve got my wedding gift money ready!” Ten minutes later, all eight cast members—four men and four women—had arrived. Half were celebrities, and half were elites from other industries. The producers had everyone take turns answering one question: Have you ever dated before? Chloe looked at Liam with a shy, coy smile and answered: “No, but I do have a type that I really admire.” The chat started shipping them aggressively again. When it was my turn, I gave a reserved answer: “Yes, but our personalities didn’t match, so we broke up.” The chat immediately found a way to insult me— “Lmao, ‘personalities didn’t match.’ More like she has a terrible personality, the guy couldn’t stand her, and he dumped her!” Then it was Liam’s turn to answer. Everyone waited in anticipation. His beautifully shaped lips curled up slightly, and he said in a slow, deliberate tone: “Yes. My ex-girlfriend is actually on this dating show right now.” 3 His answer was like dropping a bomb. Not only did the live chat explode, but even the show’s director couldn’t hide his excitement. The director pressed: “Care to share which dating show?” Liam’s gaze brushed over me, almost imperceptibly. I pretended I didn’t see a thing. Ahem. What is this guy playing at? Is he trying to drag me down to generate hype for his new rumored relationship? Dream on! I’m not cooperating. The director, itching for the scoop, asked again: “Can’t you tell us?” Liam let out a light chuckle, acting as if it were a joke: “The one we’re filming right now.” The live chat instantly melted down! “Is Liam telling the truth???” “Chloe must be Liam’s ex, right? No wonder their chemistry in that drama was so insane.” “Did Liam come on this dating show just to win back his old love?” “This is the most beautiful love story ever, I’m shipping them so hard!” 4 The show had its viral moment. The director was thrilled. But I was incredibly unthrilled. Taking advantage of a bathroom break, I texted Liam on WhatsApp: “Is your brain malfunctioning?” Liam: “Yeah, there’s water in it.” Me: “???” Liam didn’t reply again. The show was still filming, so I couldn’t stay away too long. I washed my hands and stepped out. Just in time for the room selection segment. I absolutely did not want to share a room with Chloe, but she intimately linked her arm through mine. “Maya, let’s share a room! It’s been so long since we caught up. We can stay up all night talking!” I pulled my arm away and said calmly: “We’re supposed to draw lots. Let’s stick to the rules of the game.” Why is she pretending we’re besties? We were on a variety show together before. She used me as a stepping stone, establishing her “gentle best friend” persona, then paid off the editors to maliciously cut my footage, causing me to get cyberbullied by the entire internet. Does she really think the same trick will work twice? “What is Maya’s problem?” “Chloe is being so nice, why is Maya being such an ungrateful bitch!” “Chloe, ignore her, she’s not worth it!” I didn’t care what the chat was saying. I stepped forward and drew a card first. Oh wow. Blessed by the RNG gods. I drew a single room. “Let’s help the girls carry their luggage upstairs, right?” One of the male cast members suggested. Seeing Liam walking toward my side of the room, I quickly grabbed my suitcase and sprinted up the stairs like an Olympic athlete. 5 Nighttime. It was time for the anonymous “Heartbeat Text” segment. I thought about it and sent an encouraging text to Noah Grant, a young actor who was just as unpopular as I was: “The weather was beautiful today. Hope you’re happy.” Ding! Someone sent me a Heartbeat Text. It read: “The water in my brain is the tears you cried yesterday.” I knew instantly it was from Liam. What a psycho. The live chat was guessing— “Who sent Maya a Heartbeat Text?” “Well, it definitely wasn’t Liam.” “Chloe got a text saying she looked beautiful today. That was 100% Liam.” “Is the Heartbeat Text just someone telling Maya her brain is full of water? Hahaha I’m dead!” 6 The next morning, I woke up naturally. Downstairs, Chloe was serving Liam breakfast. “Liam, I know you have a sensitive stomach, so I made you some oatmeal.” Liam looked up, glanced at me standing at the top of the stairs, and said flatly: “My stomach is fine.” Chloe’s smile faltered for a second before she recovered: “When we were on set before, you had a stomach ache once that really scared me! I’m just glad you’re all better now.” Liam didn’t respond. I figured I’d avoid them and started to head back to my room. “Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” Liam called out to me. “I’ll eat later, thanks.” I replied politely. Chloe walked over to me with a beaming smile: “Skipping breakfast is a bad habit! I made a whole pot of oatmeal for Liam, but he can’t finish it all by himself. Why don’t you have a bowl?” She sounded exactly like his girlfriend. Her fans ate it right up. Even early in the morning, people were watching the stream— “Having a girlfriend like Chloe is such a blessing! Liam better cherish her!” “Liam said his stomach was fine because he didn’t want Chloe to worry. It’s a two-way street of love!” “Maya needs to leave, she’s ruining the shot. So unnecessary!” 7 I had nowhere to hide, so I decided to just cook some noodles myself. I inherited my cooking skills from my grandmother; it’s not something to scoff at. Back when Liam and I were still dating, he would always hold me and beg: “Baby, let’s go on a date to the farmer’s market today, please?” I’d laugh and push him away: “Is it a date, or are you just craving food?” He’d flip over, pin me down, and stare at me with those deep, dark eyes: “If you won’t let me crave good food, then I guess I’ll just have to crave you.” I could never say no to him. We’d wear disguises to look ugly and hold hands as we went to the market to buy groceries. The Heartbeat Villa didn’t have a ton of ingredients, so I decided to make a simple, traditional Hangzhou-style noodle soup. The savory aroma of the broth began to drift through the air. Noah, who had just come downstairs, let out a howl: “Who is seducing my stomach right now?!” I replied politely: “Noah, you haven’t eaten yet, right? I made a small pot, enough for two.” Before Noah could even walk over, Liam beat him to it. Liam’s “electric” eyes—as his fans called them—currently looked like a wet puppy’s as he stared at the pot: “Can I have some?” I silently backed away a bit: “Sorry, I already promised Noah.” The chat scoffed at me— “It’s just a bowl of noodles, what’s the big deal? Liam, let Chloe cook for you!” “Chloe is a great cook, she’s such a hidden gem!” Chloe must have seen the comments scrolling on the big screen. She winked playfully at me: “I’ll cook some noodles too! Let’s have a competition, Maya. Let’s see whose noodles taste better!” 8 The kitchen had two stoves. Chloe started her performance. Her movements were very elegant. I took one look. Oh, it’s because her French manicure is too long, making it hard to wash the vegetables. No wonder she’s slow. “Liam, could you help me tie the apron strings?” Chloe held up an apron, looking at Liam with pleading eyes. Coincidentally, Liam was also holding up a pink, women’s apron, as if he had anticipated this. Noah and I stood to the side, basically eating popcorn. Noah winked at me and whispered his gossip: “I already placed my bet. Five bags of spicy strips on guessing who Liam’s ex is.” I was surprised: “Where are you betting?” Noah: “You don’t know? The internet is going crazy. There’s a massive online poll guessing who Liam’s ex-girlfriend is. Chloe is currently at 99%.” Curious, I whispered: “How many votes do I have?” Noah gave me a look of pure pity: “0.008%.” Me: … Suddenly, Chloe let out a surprised gasp: “Liam?” Liam was holding the pink apron, but he was walking toward me. The guy moved too fast. Before I could dodge, he slipped the apron over my head. His cool fingertips brushed against the back of my neck, making me shiver involuntarily. He didn’t seem to notice. He seriously and tightly tied the strings behind my back. “Maya, do your best in the competition. I’ll be waiting for your noodles.” He took a step back, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile. 9 I never had any intention of competing with Chloe over cooking noodles. I was just about to take the apron off when I heard Chloe cry out in pain: “Ah! It burns!” She had lifted the pot lid and was probably hit by the steam. Chloe bit her lower lip, looking like she was on the verge of tears: “Liam… could you help me get some burn ointment? It’s in my suitcase in my room.” The fans in the live stream were heartbroken— “Oh my god, Chloe got burned! It must hurt so much!” “Liam, hurry up and help her apply the ointment! Go get it!” “Is Liam so heartbroken he froze? Why is he just standing there?” I couldn’t help but look at Liam. He smiled slightly, looking completely harmless, and said in a slow, deliberate tone: “I’m a guy. It’s not appropriate for me to go into the women’s bedrooms.” “Chloe, your legs are fine, right?” “Why don’t you go up to your room and get the ointment yourself? I’m afraid if you don’t hurry, the burn will heal itself.” I almost couldn’t hold back my laughter. This guy actually exposed his toxic, sharp-tongued nature on camera! I looked at Chloe’s hand. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it; it was just red from her rubbing it herself. But she acted like she was in agony, inhaling sharply and whining weakly: “Liam, you’re still joking around! Fine, fine, I know you respect boundaries. I’ll just go back to my room and apply it myself.” She stomped her foot and ran upstairs. The chat was thrilled— “Wow wow wow! Chloe said Liam respects boundaries, they are 100% a confirmed couple!” “No need to guess anymore, Liam’s ex is definitely Chloe.” “I’m calling her sister-in-law early!” “Liam, hurry up and win her back! My Ice & Fire ship can never sink!” 10 After breakfast, it was time for the blind date segment. According to the rules, the female cast members would draw lots. Unfortunately, I drew Liam. And Chloe drew Noah. The chat started raging immediately— “Is the production team trying to torture us on purpose?” “Watching Liam go on a date with Maya is worse than eating a hundred flies!” “Maya, you better know your place and swap with Chloe right now, or I’ll curse out your entire family!” The insults got uglier and uglier. Which only triggered my rebellious side. I originally wanted to swap with Chloe, but now I absolutely wasn’t going to. I smiled slightly at Liam: “Liam, I’ll be in your care today.” Liam returned his signature calm smile: “Don’t say that, Maya. The honor is all mine.” The date location the show had set up was a haunted house. Thanks a lot. I had been to a haunted house with Liam before. He looks cold and composed on the outside, but he’s actually terrified of ghosts. Last time, he was so scared by a female ghost NPC that he howled and clung to me for dear life. If that happened on camera, I wouldn’t just be getting my family cursed out. “You better act brave later!” Taking advantage of a gap before entering, when the cameras weren’t rolling, I warned Liam in a low voice. “Don’t jump on me.” Liam looked completely innocent: “Fear of ghosts is a psychological condition. I can’t control it.” I threatened him: “If you ‘can’t control it,’ I’ll leak all your embarrassing secrets.” Liam actually looked intrigued: “What embarrassing secrets do I have? Tell me.” I lowered my voice even more: “The aloof A-list actor is actually a massive simp behind closed doors. He sleeps hugging a plushie, and his mental age is exactly nine years old!” Liam raised an eyebrow and laughed: “Why does that sound kind of cute?” Me: … Narcissist! 11 The haunted house was chilling and pitch black. A bloody head swung from the ceiling. I felt Liam practically pressing against my back. I said loudly: “Liam, don’t be scared, it’s all fake!” Liam hissed: “It feels very real.” Just as he finished speaking, a horrifying NPC lunged out from a corner! Liam let out a howl and grabbed my wrist: “Maya! Where are you?!” I laughed out of sheer frustration. Where am I? In your demonic clutches! I tried to stay calm: “Liam, if you’re really scared, grab my jacket, and I’ll lead you out.” Liam didn’t hold back; he directly grabbed my hand. The night-vision cameras were rolling. Even though it wasn’t perfectly clear, it was enough for the audience to see. I decided to just embrace the chaos, dragging Liam in a dead sprint, talking absolute nonsense: “Liam, run! As long as you run faster than the ghosts, you’ll be fine!” Liam actually seemed amused by me. He squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, hard. Liam laughed again, whispering extremely quietly: “I’ll let you vent.” When we exited the haunted house, I noticed the production crew’s expressions were very colorful. There was a faint trace of the joy of eating drama. Me: ??? The makeup artist gestured for me to look at the live chat. I took a glance at her phone. “Am I deaf?! What did I just hear?!” “Liam called Maya ‘Maya’!” “Liam held Maya’s hand! He was holding it so tight!” “Everyone stay calm! We all know Liam is terrified of ghosts. It was just a subconscious action out of fear.”

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The college admissions scores had just been released. The girl I had been financially sponsoring for the past four years sent me a text. She scored a 900 on her SATs—somehow even lower than her score last year. She texted me: Chloe, I don’t want to do another year of prep classes, and I really don’t want to go to a community college. A classmate told me I could study abroad at a private university, but the tuition and fees are going to be around $50,000. Chloe, I truly want to pursue my education. Can you please keep sponsoring me? 1 Sitting across from me, my best friend Sarah noticed me frowning as I set my phone face-down on the table. She looked at me, surprised. “What’s wrong? You look like you just swallowed a lemon.” I slid my phone across the table so she could read the text. “Where on earth did you find this entitled parasite? Fifty grand? The sheer audacity she has to even ask,” Sarah said, her eyes wide with disbelief. “So, what are you going to do?” “Tell her I’m pulling the plug on her sponsorship. I’m just trying to figure out how to word it.” Before I could even finish my sentence, another text chimed in. Chloe, I really need this educational opportunity. I know my test scores aren’t high. But Chloe, you know my family’s financial situation… I hope you can help me achieve my dreams. I will remember you forever. Thank you. Reading that little sob story didn’t change my mind. If anything, it made me realize that sponsoring her for the last four years had been a massive mistake. Suppressing my irritation, I typed out a reply. Mia, hi. I’m sorry to hear your scores weren’t what you hoped for. When we spoke last year, I made it very clear that this was your last chance. My condition for continuing the sponsorship was that you get accepted into a four-year state college. As for your plan to study abroad, I am not wealthy enough to afford a $50,000 tuition bill, so my hands are tied. Given the current circumstances, I am terminating my sponsorship. Moving forward, you’ll have to rely on yourself. Hitting send felt like a massive weight lifting off my chest. Sarah read the text over my shoulder and sighed. “You should have bluntly rejected her like this ages ago. Instead, you dragged it out for an extra year.” The screen showed Mia was typing, but no message ever came through. I assumed the matter was finally settled. 2 When I opened my front door and saw Mia and her mother standing in my hallway, I was genuinely shocked. Mrs. Gallagher was holding an assortment of cheap gift bags. Mia was looking down, tapping away on her phone. The moment she saw me, she shoved her phone in her pocket, practically lunged at me, and locked her arms around mine. “Chloe! I finally get to see you! I’ve been wanting to visit you forever, but school has been so busy I never had the chance.” “This girl has been talking my ear off about coming to see you, saying she needed to thank you for all your help over the years,” Mrs. Gallagher quickly chimed in. I glanced at the bags cluttering my hallway and said flatly, “Let’s go inside first.” They hadn’t even been sitting on my couch for five minutes before Mrs. Gallagher revealed their true motive. “We know the girl didn’t test well this year, and she felt too guilty to face you. But you know how it is—a girl without a real degree these days is going to struggle. Her dad is disabled, and I have to support both her and her little brother on my own. We simply don’t have the money to send her abroad. You’re the only person we could turn to.” I poured them two glasses of water and sat back. “Universities abroad still have academic standards. With her grades, even if she goes overseas, she won’t get into a reputable school. Finding a good job when she comes back will be just as difficult.” “I already asked around! It only takes $50,000 to get the degree, and when she comes back, they guarantee job placement with a starting salary of $80,000 a year!” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mrs. Gallagher, things like that don’t exist. Whoever told you that is running a scam.” Mrs. Gallagher’s face immediately hardened. “I may not have a college degree, but I’m not an idiot.” “Chloe, you have to believe us. It’s real,” Mia insisted. “My boyfriend—well, a guy in my class—is going too. If we apply together, they even give us a discount.” I shook my head. “That makes it sound even more like a scam.” “It’s real! Look, I’ll show you the texts.” Mia shoved her phone in my face. The chat was open to a contact saved as “Baby Bear.” She glanced at me, and seeing I wasn’t reacting, quickly backed out to pull up the contact for the “agent” she had mentioned. The agent’s pitch was flawless. They claimed to represent globally recognized universities—top-tier schools across Europe and Australia, take your pick. They didn’t care about your GPA; as long as you paid the fee, they would ensure you passed the interview and got your visa. If you chose to return to the States after graduation, they guaranteed an $80,000/year corporate job. Hell, if it were real, I’d want to sign up. I had been busting my back in the corporate world for two years and barely cleared $5,000 a month. “This is an obvious fraud,” I said firmly. “Studying abroad doesn’t work on a ‘flat-rate package’ deal, and costs vary wildly depending on the country. If it were this easy, why would anyone even bother taking the SATs? We’d all just pay a fee, go abroad, and come back to guaranteed $80K salaries.” “That’s just because other people don’t have the right connections! This isn’t an opportunity just anyone can get.” Mrs. Gallagher leaned in close, lowering her voice like we were discussing state secrets. “These spots are strictly allocated. Mia is just incredibly lucky to have access to one.” I looked at Mia, who was staring at her phone with a dopey, lovesick smile. I sighed inwardly. “Mia, how exactly did you get this ‘spot’?” Hearing her name, Mia quickly locked her screen and turned to me. “My boyfriend pulled some strings through his relatives. His uncle is a massive real estate developer in New York with huge connections. That’s how we got the VIP allocation.” Her face was plastered with a smile so smitten it looked glued on. A rich developer uncle? Massive connections? I instantly knew exactly what was going on. “Mrs. Gallagher, I’m telling you, you’ve met a con artist. He’s just trying to drain your bank accounts.” “Impossible. Why would he be a scammer?” Mrs. Gallagher waved me off, utterly dismissive. Since the mother was a brick wall, I pivoted to the daughter. “Mia, listen to me. Nothing your boyfriend is telling you is true.” She blinked, totally failing to process my bluntness. “I don’t know how long you’ve been dating this guy, but everything he’s pitching is a lie. I highly suspect he’s trying to scam you out of your money. I strongly suggest you call the police.” Mia’s eyes went wide, acting as if I had just uttered absolute heresy. “Call the police? For what?!” Mrs. Gallagher erupted. “You just don’t want to pay up! You only agreed to sponsor us in the first place to look like a saint on social media! Now that Mia found a boyfriend with real money and power, you’re jealous!” “Yeah, Chloe! How could you be so mean?” Mia chimed in, tears brimming in her eyes as if I were a heartless monster. “Just because I accepted your financial help doesn’t mean I lose the right to fall in love!” “Trey said that when they get back from Europe, he’s going to build her brother a massive three-story house back in our hometown! He’s not a scammer! You just can’t stand seeing us do well. Honestly, if we knew you were going to be this stingy, we would have found a different sponsor. We wouldn’t have to sit here begging you while you act superior. We’d already have the money wired!” Mrs. Gallagher ranted. Seeing my face turn to ice, Mia tugged her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, stop.” “Why should I stop? She should have sponsored you and your brother from the start! Instead, she decided to split her money and sponsor two different families to double her clout. If she had just given us all the money, I wouldn’t have to work so hard!” Hearing that, any remaining shred of politeness I had vanished. I stood up and pointed to the door. “I don’t have the money to fund your delusion. If you want to study abroad, figure it out yourselves. It’s late, and I have work tomorrow. Please leave.” Mia’s face went pale. “Chloe, it’s so late. We don’t know anyone in this city. You’re really not going to let us stay the night?” “There’s a hotel right down the street.” “You gave us a little bit of charity and think you’re royalty?! Fine! I refuse to believe we’ll sleep on the street!” Mrs. Gallagher grabbed Mia with one hand, snatched her cheap gift bags with the other, and stormed out, slamming my door so hard the walls shook. The mother-daughter duo successfully completely cured my burnout from work. Turns out, there really are things in this world far more nauseating than a 9-to-5 job. 3 I thought ambushing me at my apartment was the lowest they could go. I underestimated them. They showed up at my workplace. Mrs. Gallagher’s exact logic was: How can a liar who breaks her promises be allowed to work in the public sector, supposedly serving the community? This time, it wasn’t just the two of them. They dragged along Mia’s disabled father and her fragile younger brother, Kevin. The whole family camped out in the main lobby of the City Hall permit office. Mrs. Gallagher marched up to every single service window, loudly broadcasting her sob story. She claimed I had promised to fund Mia’s entire university education, but now I was going back on my word and refusing to pay. She cried about how they brought me hometown gifts out of the goodness of their hearts, only for me to turn up my nose and kick them out onto the street at night. She wailed that if I wasn’t going to fund Mia’s college, I shouldn’t have stolen the sponsorship spot from wealthy corporate donors who actually had money. Now, Mia was doomed to rot in their dead-end hometown because I was a greedy liar. She put on such a tear-jerking performance you’d think she was auditioning for an Oscar. I had funded this girl for four years. Because she wanted an exorbitant amount of money to go abroad, I said no, and suddenly I was the villain of the century? In just a few days, she successfully made me the most famous person in my department. Sitting at my front-desk window, I could feel the side-eyes and whispers from my coworkers. But because I worked at the public-facing front desk, I had no valid excuse to have security throw them out without causing a PR nightmare. “Chloe, Director Davis is back from his conference. He wants to see you in his office.” After the family had terrorized my lobby for four straight days, my boss returned from a two-week training trip early. Clearly, the circus downstairs had prompted his early return. “Chloe. Come in, sit,” Director Davis greeted me with his usual warm, politician smile. I forced a polite smile back. “Good morning, Director.” I sat down, feeling incredibly anxious. “I’ve heard about the situation downstairs,” he said, taking a slow sip from his thermos. “Why don’t you walk me through exactly what’s going on?” “I started sponsoring Mia when I was a junior in college. $500 a month. I had come into a little bit of money that year, and I just wanted to do something good, so I picked two students to help out. Last year, she failed her college entrance exams, so I terminated the agreement. But she begged me, saying if she didn’t do a prep year, her mom was going to force her into an arranged marriage just to collect a dowry for her brother. I agreed to sponsor her for one final year. The condition was that she had to get into a state college. If she failed again, the money stopped.” “I see. I know your character, Chloe. Doing a good deed is commendable,” Director Davis said, rubbing his temples. “But this family causing a scene in the lobby every day… we can’t let this continue.” “I know, Director. I’ll handle it.” “With people like this, you can’t just throw money at the problem to make them go away. They’re a bottomless pit.” “I understand.” “If you need help, don’t try to shoulder it alone. We have your back,” he said thoughtfully. “Have security bring them up to my office. I’ll have a word with them.” “Thank you so much, Director.” As I walked downstairs, I ran into the family of four being escorted up by the security guards. Mrs. Gallagher shot me a triumphant, arrogant glare, strutting like she owned the building. “Mia,” I called out to the girl trailing at the back. She flinched, surprised I was speaking to her. “What’s the matter? Finally willing to talk to us?” Mrs. Gallagher sneered, assuming my silence over the past few days meant I had caved. “You gave us a few pennies and think you’re God. If we knew you were just a miserable 9-to-5 desk jockey, we would never have taken your money! I’ll make a scene every day until you’re completely humiliated. Let’s see if you dare bully us again.” “Mia, for the last four years, I wired your tuition and your $500 monthly living expenses on time, every single month. You told me you would study hard to repay my kindness. Is this how you repay me?” I stared dead into Mia’s eyes. “Have I ever asked you for anything unreasonable? Have I ever mistreated you? Don’t you think causing a scene at my job is completely immoral?” “$500?!” Mrs. Gallagher gasped like she had just been struck by lightning. She slapped Mia hard on the shoulder. “You ungrateful brat! You told me she only sent $300! Where did the other $200 go?!” Kevin lunged forward, grabbing his sister’s arm. “Did you hide money from me?! Give it back!” Being yanked back and forth by her mother and brother, Mia finally snapped. She ripped her arm away and screamed, “I gave it to Trey!” She shot me a venomous glare. “Trey’s wealthy parents despise my background. They cut off his credit cards to force us to break up, so I gave the money to him!” “But that was supposed to be my money!” Kevin whined. “Oh, shut up, look at the big picture! Once your sister and Trey come back from studying abroad, do you really think we’ll care about a few hundred bucks?” Mrs. Gallagher beamed at Mia as if looking at a winning lottery ticket. Suddenly, her eyes shifted back to me, filled with absolute disgust. “If you hadn’t shoved your way in, the person sponsoring Mia would have been a real millionaire! An actual CEO! Not a fraud who can’t even scrape together $50,000. You’re broke, but you still pretend to be rich.” I let out a dark chuckle. “If I hadn’t sponsored her, you would have sold her off for a dowry four years ago. Did you forget?” “Th-that was a special circumstance!” Mrs. Gallagher stammered. “Besides, Mia found Trey on her own! It’s her own blessing! You don’t have the money anyway, so this is none of your business!” I didn’t bother arguing with the mother. I just looked at Mia. But in her eyes, I couldn’t find a single trace of gratitude or apology. Perfect. Four years of charity, wasted on a snake. Director Davis stepped out of his office, saw us in the hallway, and ushered everyone inside. “I’m familiar with your situation,” Director Davis said with his signature smile, taking a slow sip of his tea. “What exactly are you hoping to achieve here?” “Director, Chloe promised to sponsor Mia through college, but now that Mia’s grades slipped, she’s backing out. We couldn’t swallow that injustice, so we came to find her. Just because a kid struggles in school doesn’t mean she should be stripped of her right to an education, does it?” Mrs. Gallagher’s rapid-fire guilt trip even caught Director Davis off guard for a second. “We’re reasonable people. We just want you to judge the situation fairly. How can someone with zero integrity like her be allowed to work here?” “Chloe is an exceptional employee. Her work ethic is recognized by everyone in this building,” Director Davis interrupted smoothly. “Well, she’s your employee, and she promised to pay for Mia’s college. Since she doesn’t have the money, Director, don’t you think your office should allocate some public funds to solve this issue?” I swear, even a seasoned veteran like Director Davis blue-screened for a second when he heard that. I certainly didn’t expect Mrs. Gallagher to drop a demand so delusional it could shatter the sound barrier. “Chloe’s charitable contributions are strictly personal actions. They have absolutely nothing to do with this office,” Director Davis replied, recovering his diplomatic tone. “You’re a massive government office, and you don’t have a charity fund?” Mrs. Gallagher pressed, refusing to give up. “Sponsoring Mia is an investment with infinite returns! You really don’t have a precedent for this?” “If you’re looking for charity, I suggest you contact the Red Cross,” Davis said, glancing at them. “Though, somehow, I doubt they’ll fund an international vacation.” “I don’t care! Your employee made a promise. If she doesn’t have the money, you need to figure it out!” Mrs. Gallagher had fully transitioned into throwing a toddler’s tantrum. “Chloe doesn’t have money?” Director Davis looked at me, thoroughly amused. “Chloe, did you not explain your financial situation to them?” 4 Yes, I was just a regular 9-to-5 employee. But during my junior year of college, my family received a massive payout from a corporate eminent domain buyout of our land. It wasn’t “buy-a-private-jet” money, but it was enough that if I budgeted well, I wouldn’t have to stress about bills for the next two hundred years. I wanted to put some of it to good use, so I picked two students to sponsor. I never expected them to worship the ground I walked on. I just wanted to help people who actually needed it. But I never anticipated creating a monster like Mia. The moment Mia and her mother realized I actually did have money, the speed at which their attitudes flipped was genuinely breathtaking. Mia was suddenly calling me “Chloe” with nauseating sweetness, blaming her “youth and immaturity” for her past behavior. She claimed she was just so desperate to study that it clouded her judgment. Her mother parroted the same nonsense, claiming her “fierce maternal love” made her act disrespectfully. Mrs. Gallagher even went back downstairs to all the service windows, aggressively singing my praises to my coworkers and asking them to “take good care of me.” The whiplash was so severe my coworkers looked at her like she belonged in a psych ward. But true to form, they operated entirely on their own shameless logic, uncaring of how unhinged they looked. The venom they spewed yesterday matched the sickeningly sweet flattery they poured on me today. In just a few days, this mother-daughter duo taught me that when someone truly abandons all shame, there is absolutely no limit to what they are capable of. They started camping outside my apartment again—this time, practically trying to force-feed me home-cooked meals. Her disabled father limped around my hallway, sweeping my doormat. And Kevin, the frail, delicate brother, waited for me outside my office every morning and evening, claiming he was there to “protect” me. People talk about getting milked like a cash cow, but this family was trying to harvest my organs. I had sponsored a student and accidentally adopted a whole lineage of parasites. Director Davis loved watching the karma unfold, but at the end of the day, it was my mess to clean up. I sighed in defeat. “Mia, come here.” Hearing me finally address her directly, Mia’s face lit up with pure ecstasy. “Yes? What is it, Chloe?” “Regarding the funds for you to study abroad,” I said, my tone completely flat. The moment those words left my mouth, the entire family swarmed me like vultures. “Are you willing to sponsor me?!” Mia’s eyes practically glowed in the dark. “Let me explain my situation.” I paused for dramatic effect. “I don’t spend a lot of money on a daily basis. My funds are locked in high-yield Certificates of Deposit. If I withdraw the money early, the penalty fees are massive.” “So after all that talk, you’re just making excuses not to pay us,” Kevin sneered, rolling his eyes. I completely ignored him. “If I am going to continue the sponsorship, we have to sign a legally binding contract. I will only wire the money directly to the educational institution for tuition. Furthermore, you must guarantee you will actually graduate and receive a legitimate diploma.” “Yes, yes, absolutely! I promise I will study so hard!” Mia nodded furiously. “Like I said, my money is locked up. It matures in exactly fifteen days. That is the earliest I can access the funds.” “Ah, is that so?” Mia looked deeply distressed. “Chloe, can’t you just take the penalty fee and withdraw it early? My family already took out a huge loan to start building my brother’s house… Just pull it out early, and we’ll pay you back whatever the penalty fee is!” I stared at the girl flashing me a brilliant smile. Pay me back the penalty fee? The absolute delusion. “This is my final offer,” I said coldly. “Until those fifteen days are up, do not contact me.” Realizing I left zero room for negotiation, Mia pouted and muttered an “Okay.” “And stop lurking around my apartment,” I added, looking at the family of four buzzing with greedy excitement. “In fifteen days, bring the contract to my office, and we’ll sign the paperwork.” “Chloe, you are the absolute best! Our whole family thanks you!” Before leaving, Mia forced me into a massive, suffocating hug. As Mrs. Gallagher walked away, she loudly praised my “kind and generous heart.” I funded Mia for four years and never got a single word of thanks. Now, I was making them wait fifteen days, and suddenly I was a saint. Was I being kind and generous? No. I was simply respecting the fate they chose for themselves.

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After caring for the paralyzed billionaire CEO for two years, he finally recovered. The very first thing he did was propose to his childhood sweetheart—the same woman who abandoned him the moment he was injured. The media called it a fairy tale: “True love stays, until they finally become one.” I tilted my head back, watching the live broadcast of the proposal on the giant Times Square billboard in silence. Then, I tossed the ring in my pocket into the nearest trash can. The debt I owed him was finally paid in full. 1 The busy pedestrians in Times Square all stopped in their tracks, looking up at the live broadcast of the proposal flashing across the giant digital billboards. It wasn’t just here; every major screen in New York City had been switched to the same live feed. The footage was crystal clear in 4K. You could even see the faint, shimmering tears in the heroine’s eyes. One look at the extravagant setup and I knew it was Arthur Sterling’s work. During the final months of his recovery, he had sketched the designs himself. He even personally designed the fireworks display. Back then, he used to hook a cold finger around the back of my neck and ask me what kind of flowers I liked. I told him hyacinths. But the entire proposal venue on the screen was engulfed in a passionate sea of red roses. And the heroine standing there wasn’t me. It was Arthur’s ex-girlfriend, the celebrity fashion designer, Chloe Vance. I tilted my head back calmly. The proposal had reached its climax. Arthur was down on one knee, holding a black velvet box. The diamond inside sparkled like a fallen star. Compared to that, the band in my pocket couldn’t even be called a ring. The girls standing next to me squealed in excitement: “Arthur Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Enterprises! He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back! No wonder they used to call him the ultimate playboy of Manhattan. Looks like the playboy is finally settling down.” “I heard that during the two years Arthur was paralyzed, Chloe turned down all her fashion gigs just to stay and take care of him! What a fairy-tale romance! They’re finally getting married!” I silently massaged my wrist, my fingers grazing the faded, grayish-brown scar left from those two grueling years of caring for him. The Chloe Vance of two years ago didn’t stay. The moment Arthur and I broke up, she flew straight to Milan to advance her fashion career. The crowd around me collectively held their breath as the proposal reached its final moment. Chloe looked down at the young man kneeling before her, her voice choking with emotion as she said, “I will.” The ring was slipped onto her ring finger. Arthur stood up and pulled her into a passionate kiss. At that exact moment, fireworks exploded across the New York skyline. With a spectacle this massive, not just New York, but probably the whole country knew by now. But thinking about it, it was perfectly in character for him. Arthur Sterling never did anything quietly. When he loved someone, he wanted the whole world to know. The crowd erupted in cheers. The girl standing next to me, vibrating with excitement, grabbed my wrist, barely containing her thrill. “They’re so perfect for each other, don’t you think?” I endured the sharp pain in my wrist and smiled faintly. “They are.” She noticed my pale face and, belatedly realizing she was gripping me too hard, let go and started to apologize. But before she could, I had already turned and walked away into the bustling crowd. Behind me, the protagonists on the giant screen were lost in a deep kiss. The crowd screamed and cheered for their epic romance, and the fireworks painted the sky in brilliant, chaotic colors. Suddenly, I stopped next to a trash can. I crouched down, took a deep breath to compose myself, and then stood back up. I pulled the dull, tarnished ring from my pocket. It was ugly, and the band was far too wide for my finger. But thankfully, there was no longer any need for me to keep it. I tossed the ring into the trash. My heart had never felt this calm. I didn’t shed a single tear. From this moment on. Whatever I owed the Sterling family, whatever I owed Arthur Sterling… I had paid it back in full. 2 I was kicked out of Sterling Enterprises. I used to have a private executive office, but today, I didn’t even get a cubicle. A woman from HR shoved a cardboard box into my arms. “Assistant Hayes, your things are in here.” I had a good relationship with the staff, so she lowered her voice sympathetically. “Mr. Sterling personally ordered your termination. But your severance package is generous. You should leave while you can.” Her tone was actually polite. I could guess Arthur’s exact words: Tell her to get the hell out. I could picture him leaning back in his leather chair, a lazy, indifferent look in his eyes, completely dismissing my existence. Struggling under the weight of the heavy box, I walked past my old office. I finally saw who its new owner was. It had already been converted into Chloe’s private lounge, her fashion sketches scattered carelessly across the desks. Intimate photos of her and Arthur plastered the walls, completely covering the space where my dense, meticulously planned itinerary boards used to hang. I lowered my eyes, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edges of the box. But the tension released just as quickly. Whatever. 3 In the crowded lobby of the corporate headquarters, I was shoved and fell to the floor. The cardboard box tumbled, scattering my belongings everywhere. There were too many people swarming the entrance. Someone’s sharp stiletto heel stepped hard onto the back of my hand, sending a piercing, agonizing pain shooting up my arm. The swarm of journalists and bystanders were all surging in one direction. Fighting through the pain, I looked up just in time to see Chloe appear, arm-in-arm with a man. She loved the color red. Her sleek, crimson slip dress was eye-catching, but the man beside her was even more radiant. Arthur hated crowds, and he looked visibly annoyed, turning his head slightly away from the flashes, yet he still meticulously shielded Chloe in his arms. The reporters blocked their path, thrusting microphones forward, firing questions one after another: “Chloe! The hashtag #ProposalOfTheCentury has been trending number one on X for a whole week! As the leading lady, do you have anything to say?” Chloe smiled radiantly. “I’m just incredibly grateful. During the darkest two years of his life, the person by his side… was always me.” Arthur Sterling. The golden boy of New York. He had sailed through life, standing at the absolute peak of society. The only time he ever fell was during the two years he was paralyzed after a horrific car crash. When the walls crumbled, everyone he knew abandoned him, leaving him to taste the bitter cruelty of the world. Anyone had the right to say those words—except Chloe. Back then, she had immediately booked a flight out of the country. I was the only one left by his side. It was such a blatant lie. But Arthur looked genuinely happy hearing it. He didn’t correct her. In fact, he indulged the lie completely. Arthur looked down, gazing at Chloe with profound tenderness. It was as if a raging wildfire had finally met a calming river and settled. Camera shutters clicked frantically. The paparazzi eagerly captured the deep, affectionate gaze exchanged between the two. Suddenly, Arthur turned his head. His gaze cut straight through the crowd and locked directly onto my eyes. His look was incredibly cold. I looked back at him quietly, offering a faint, shallow smile. My heart felt incredibly light. He instinctively furrowed his brows in displeasure. Actually, I was also incredibly grateful. During the darkest two years of his life, I was the one who stayed by his side. The life debt I owed him had been repaid in full. 4 The Uber I called was taking forever. Between the low blood sugar and the sharp pain in my stomach, I couldn’t stand it anymore and crouched down by the curb, clutching my stomach. The hand that had been stepped on was already swollen, bruised, and bleeding. It hurt terribly. Chloe really was special to Arthur. I had known Arthur for a very long time. He had been the crown prince of the Sterling family since he was born. Growing up, he had endless rumors and flings, but the only girlfriend he ever publicly acknowledged was Chloe Vance. It made perfect sense that they would reunite. It was a classic romance trope. A sudden honk startled me. I looked up to see a sleek black Maybach pulling up right in front of me. The tinted window slowly rolled down, revealing Arthur’s lazy, handsome face. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel. “Stomach acting up again?” My eyelashes fluttered slightly. He let out a scoff, his eyes filled with mocking disgust. “Serves you right.” I lowered my eyes. It felt like we had rewound time by two years. This was exactly how Arthur treated me back then. He was always this vicious to me. He used to say that the fact someone like me was even allowed to breathe the same air as him was a charity. Only now did I finally realize that all the tenderness he showed me later was an act. He was just terrified that if I left, no one would be left to take care of him while he was paralyzed. I decided to just ignore him. The click-clack of heels approached from behind. Chloe walked past me, opened the passenger door, and whined playfully, “Arthur, I’m so sorry I’m late! Those reporters were so annoying. I should have let you go first, you’re so much better at handling them.” As she buckled her seatbelt, Chloe turned her head and saw me. Her voice caught in her throat, and her face paled slightly. She hurriedly urged, “Arthur, let’s go! We’re gonna be late for our dinner reservation!” Arthur frowned, clearly annoyed by the rush. Fighting the pain in my stomach, I looked up at Arthur, figuring this would be the last time I ever spoke to him. “I watched the livestream of your proposal. The venue looked even more beautiful than the sketches you drew.” Except that it was filled with roses instead of hyacinths, everything was perfect. I thought for a moment and added, “I wish you both… a lifetime of happiness.” Arthur stopped smiling. The hand resting on the car window suddenly clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning stark white, as if what he just heard wasn’t a blessing at all. On that hand rested a gleaming engagement ring. I lowered my eyes, dodging the intense, unreadable look Arthur was giving me. Chloe went quiet for a second before saying softly, “Arthur, we’re running late. Let’s not waste time on irrelevant people.” A very faint voice drifted down from above me. Arthur said, “Mia. Don’t regret this.” He waited for a moment. When I didn’t respond, he scoffed, restarted the engine, and slammed on the gas, speeding off. I looked up in a daze, only catching the taillights of the black Maybach disappearing into the distance. He drove aggressively, exactly like the way he used to street-race sports cars years ago. Even if it was a blessing, as long as it came from my mouth, Arthur would find a way to get irrationally angry. He was psycho. But I didn’t regret a thing. 5 I waited so long for the Uber that I was starting to give up, when my phone suddenly buzzed. A notification popped up, concise and to the point: “Where are you?” I hesitated for a second before dropping a pin with my location. Half an hour later, I was sitting in the back of a luxury SUV, extending my hand stiffly. The young man sitting across from me lowered his eyes, carefully cleaning and bandaging the wound on the back of my hand. Julian lifted his gaze. “Does it hurt?” Every time he moved, my body tensed up nervously, but I shook my head. Julian lowered his head again and gently blew on my hand. The cool breath made my fingers curl inward. I widened my eyes and repeated, “I said it doesn’t hurt.” Only then did Julian release my hand, speaking in a slow, deliberate drawl, “Didn’t hear you.” Right now, I felt like a rogue knight who had defected to the enemy’s camp. As Arthur’s former executive assistant and loyal shadow, I knew that nine out of ten times Arthur got into a fight, it was with Julian Reed. From their prep school days all the way to corporate boardrooms, the two had always been mortal enemies. Especially during the two years Arthur was paralyzed, Julian had aggressively acquired almost all of his key assets. Even though I had absolutely nothing to do with Arthur anymore, old habits die hard. Being around his rival still felt deeply unnatural. Julian leaned back lazily. “There’s a gala tonight. I need a plus-one.” I looked down at my freshly bandaged hand. “Is Arthur going to be there?” Julian hummed in confirmation. I stopped looking at him, and after a long silence, I finally spoke: “If you’re trying to use me to piss off Arthur, you’re going to be disappointed. He doesn’t care about me at all.” My voice was soft, quietly stating a simple fact. Julian was spinning a silver Zippo lighter in his hand. The brief flash of the flame illuminated his sharp knuckles. He said, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” I turned my head to look at the city streets blurring past the window and let out a small laugh. I thought about the Arthur Sterling I knew when I was seventeen. In front of all his rich, elite friends, he had laughed—a wild, contemptuous, arrogant laugh. He had said: “Mia Hayes?” “There is absolutely no fucking way I would ever like Mia Hayes.” 6 When I was brought to the high-end boutique to get fitted for a gown, Julian stayed the entire time. He had incredibly high standards. I tried on over a dozen luxury gowns, and he rejected every single one. Honestly, I didn’t want to go to this gala, but Julian insisted, and I had no choice. Half a month ago, when I left the Sterling estate, I wasn’t allowed to take a single thing with me. It was Julian’s grandmother who temporarily took me in. So, whatever Julian wanted me to do, I would do my best to accommodate him. When I finally tried on a silver-white gown, the skirt shimmering like the Milky Way, Julian’s gaze finally stopped. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “That one.” I looked at the mirror beside me and froze. The woman in the mirror was unfamiliar yet familiar, so breathtakingly beautiful it made me dizzy. It was as if the quiet, plain girl who had spent years blending into the background behind Arthur Sterling had suddenly stepped into the blinding spotlight. I had never seen myself look like this before. I reached out, timidly touching the cold glass of the mirror. Julian stood behind me, a diamond necklace slipping through his fingers. He leaned in slightly to clasp it around my neck. His breath was burning hot against my skin as he drawled lazily: “Mia. I’m not making you wear this to piss them off.” “I just want Arthur Sterling to realize that he wasn’t just paralyzed. He’s also fucking blind.”

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The two boys I grew up with misunderstood me, bullying me relentlessly for the sake of their golden girl. They burned my stomach with a cigarette and crushed my drawing hand. Their voices were ice-cold: “Sydney, this is what you owe Serena.” When the truth finally came to light, they still shielded the real bully behind them: “So what if we hit her? She’s not dead.” It wasn’t until the plot’s influence started wiping my memories of them that they finally regretted it. The two former best friends brawled in the streets over me. They dropped to their knees, begging me not to leave, their voices trembling: “You promised we’d be best friends for the rest of our lives.” 1 When I arrived, Caleb was still shooting hoops. He casually lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his jersey riding up to reveal a lean waist. Asher sat on the bleachers drinking water, an unlit cigarette pinched between his fingers. The indoor court was completely empty. Seeing me, Caleb dribbled the ball, his tone impatient. “Why are you so late?” “The line for the boba place was really long today.” During our afternoon classes, Caleb had suddenly texted me demanding a drink from a specific shop. I knew his volatile temper well, so I skipped class and waited in line for two hours. But I was still late. Out of habit, I started to apologize: “I’m sor—” Thump. The heavy thud of a basketball slamming into my chest cut me off. The sheer force knocked me to the hardwood floor, but my hands instinctively protected the two cups of boba. I didn’t want to go back and wait in that line again. A sharp pain shot up my legs. I winced, letting out a soft hiss. “My bad. Slipped.” Caleb offered a half-hearted, careless apology, then crouched down and pulled out his phone. “How much was it?” Before I could answer, he swiftly transferred the money. The notification for a $5,000 transfer echoed loudly in the dead-silent gym. “It didn’t cost that much.” I frowned, instinctively reaching for my phone to send the excess back. But the moment I pulled it out, Caleb snatched it from my hand. And smashed it violently against the floor. I stared blankly at the shattered screen. I tried to push down the rising fear and ache in my chest, reasoning with myself that $5,000 was enough to buy a new phone anyway. No wonder he sent so much. But a second later— “How could it not cost that much?” Caleb’s lip curled. As he looked at me, he suddenly grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back against the floor. He sneered. “Aren’t you desperate for cash? Didn’t you take three grand to hire Vance’s crew to harass Serena?!” The back of my head struck the hardwood hard. A blinding pain swallowed me whole. The boba tea I had protected spilled everywhere, the hot liquid soaking my clothes. I gritted my teeth against the pain. My first instinct was to explain: “I didn’t!” “Caleb.” A smooth, calm voice drifted over. It was Asher. Caleb was a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest spark, but Asher had always been gentle. He would listen to reason. I looked up at him, pleading for help. But Asher just said: “Hurry it up.” He looked down, shielding his lighter’s flame. “And cover her mouth. Her crying is annoying.” When he glanced at me, his eyes were filled with undisguised disgust. I froze. And then, an uncontrollable, freezing chill seeped into my very bones. 2 A long, long time ago, my relationship with Caleb and Asher wasn’t this toxic. My mother was a maid for Asher’s family, the Montgomerys. I had known them since we were toddlers. You could even say we were childhood sweethearts. Caleb had a vicious temper and threw punches over the slightest insult. Asher seemed warm and gentle, but deep down, he was aloof and incredibly hard to get close to. But they were so good to me. Whenever I got bullied, Caleb was always the first to step up and fight them off. “There are tissues in my bag.” He’d throw punches with one hand while barking orders at Asher without looking back. “Get the scented ones and wipe her tears.” Caleb used to complain that carrying tissues was unmanly. So Asher became the designated comforter, doubling as Caleb’s lookout. I had a sweet tooth, so Asher always kept candy in his pockets. “Guess what flavor I have today?” The beautiful young boy would coax me softly. “If you guess right, you can have three pieces.” But whether I guessed right or wrong, I always ended up eating only one piece. One for me, one for Asher, one for Caleb. Asher always knew I would never hoard them for myself. “Orange again?” Caleb, having chased off the neighborhood kids, would take my backpack, tear open a wrapper, pop the candy into his mouth, and frown. “Can’t you buy a different flavor next time?” “I didn’t buy them for you.” “Whatever. Just get something I like next time.” “Sure. I’ll just take your allowance next month to pay for it.” “Asher, you extortionist!” On the surface, they bickered constantly. Though it was usually just Caleb yelling, while Asher gently but ruthlessly fired back. I’d stand between them, desperately trying to play peacemaker, until Caleb would laugh, carelessly throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Relax, I’d never put our little girl in a tough spot.” Asher would scoff softly, but he never disagreed. Back then, I naively thought the three of us would stay like that forever. Until we turned fourteen. 3 Because my mom worked at the Montgomery estate, I was naturally closer to Asher. It was the day of Asher’s birthday. The three of us had planned to skip school and spend the entire day at the amusement park. But halfway there, Asher realized he forgot something and wanted to run back home. So, we stopped by the Montgomery estate first. And walked right into a sickening scene. Clothes strewn across the floor, a man’s guttural groans, a woman’s soft crying… And at that exact moment, Asher’s mother was lying in a hospital bed, gravely ill. Instinctively, I grabbed Asher’s hand, trying to pull him out of the house. He let me pull him, his face utterly devoid of emotion. But the moment we stepped outside, he stopped and mercilessly ripped his hand from my grasp. He looked at me, a mocking smile on his lips. Asher asked, “Sydney. You recognized her voice, didn’t you?” Caleb stood next to us, completely confused. I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out. “Why are you crying?” I hadn’t even realized tears were blurring my vision. Asher reached out and wiped my tears with the same gentle touch he always used, but his words were made of ice. He said, “If anyone should be crying, shouldn’t it be me?” My mother had always treated Asher like her own. Because his mother was constantly sick, my mom was the one who raised him. Asher knew her voice just as well as I did. So he knew. Being fourteen didn’t mean we were entirely ignorant. It was exactly because he understood that the betrayal cut so deep. The intrusion of an outsider, the shattering of his family. Asher hated my mother, but he hated his father even more. And he began to hate me, too. Caleb sensed the shift in the air. He tried to say something to lighten the mood, but Asher cut him off coldly. “Caleb. This has nothing to do with you.” Even though Caleb argued with Asher all the time, Asher was his anchor. He listened to him more than anyone. So Caleb ultimately stayed quiet, looking at me with a complicated expression. I just kept my head down, avoiding his gaze, my body trembling with cold. None of us ever spoke about what happened that day. Mr. Montgomery was still the warm, polite patriarch. My mom continued to gently care for Asher and me. But Asher started to hate me. Every day, the hatred grew. Yet, he learned to wear a mask. Besides me and Caleb, no one else could see his disgust. Caleb became the guy caught in the middle, torn between his two best friends. Until Asher’s mother passed away. Not long after, my mother became the new Mrs. Montgomery. “Your mother worried about you until her final breath.” Mr. Montgomery patted Asher’s shoulder, sounding heartbroken. “I’m too busy with work to care for you properly, and this house needs a woman’s touch. Asher, you have to believe I loved your mother. But I hope you can understand my difficult position, okay?” My mother stood beside him, clutching his arm, whispering words of comfort. Asher said nothing. He just stayed quiet for a moment, then looked up at Mr. Montgomery and my mom with a smile. A perfectly warm smile. “I understand completely.” Mr. Montgomery looked relieved. My mom, barely able to hide her excitement, told Asher she would treat him like her own flesh and blood. I stood in the distance, watching the absurd theatrical display, feeling physically sick. But Asher acted like everything was perfectly fine. Even though I knew betrayal was the thing he despised most in the world. In that moment, Asher looked like a total stranger. I felt like I had never known him. Yet, I had no right to call him out. He must have noticed me staring. Asher turned his head. The calm smile was still glued to his face. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Wordlessly, he mouthed something to me: Disgusting. 4 Disgusting. Caleb didn’t hold back. The air around me felt so thin I couldn’t breathe. Through my desperate struggling, I faintly heard Asher sigh. Followed by a mocking chuckle. Because of that chuckle, Caleb loosened his grip slightly. I gasped greedily for air, my eyes burning red. Pushing myself up with everything I had, my voice came out a ragged croak: “I didn’t do it.” I knew exactly what they were talking about. Ever since my mom married his dad, I had been permanently exiled from our three-person world. Caleb and Asher grew even closer. Two halves of the same whole. They even fell for the exact same girl. Serena Blair. The wealthy, beautiful heiress of the Blair family. A few days ago, rumor had it Serena was cornered in an alley by a gang of local thugs. When she was rescued, her face was bruised and swollen. Soon after, whispers started circling that I was the one who lured her out. That it was my fault she was ambushed. At first, I didn’t care. But I never expected Caleb and Asher to actually believe it. And I certainly never expected them to “avenge” her like this. I used to think that no matter how much they hated me now, they would at least believe my character when it came to things like this. But Caleb just scoffed. He stood up suddenly, staring down at me like I was garbage. “You’re exactly the same. You haven’t changed a bit.” His tone was lazy. “I really don’t want to dirty my hands with you.” “Use your feet, then.” Asher walked over. He was a germaphobe. He glanced in disgust at the spilled boba on the floor and stopped a few feet away. “You can just throw the shoes away later.” An inexplicable panic seized my chest. I looked at Asher in disbelief. I knew he hated me because of what my mother did. But just a few days ago, this same boy was gently bandaging a scrape on my arm, his demeanor impossibly soft. I naively thought he was softening up. I thought it was the prelude to us fixing things. “Asher, I didn’t do it.” Fighting through the pain, my voice shook. More than Caleb’s fists, I cared about Asher’s judgment. Asher said nothing. He just took a step closer, crouched down, and murmured cryptically, “Your clothes are all ruined.” He reached out and slowly, methodically lifted the hem of my shirt. His freezing fingertips brushed against my stomach, sending violent shudders down my spine. Asher chuckled softly. “I’ve always wanted to say this, Sydney… your waist is so narrow.” The dread pooling in my chest grew thick. I instinctively tried to crawl backward, but Asher pinned me down. “Why are you so disobedient?” The gentle smile never left his face, but without a second of hesitation, he pressed the glowing cherry of his lit cigarette directly into the soft skin of my stomach. His smile turned sadistic. “Even if you didn’t do it, you still made Serena upset.” “I heard you have that art scholarship competition next week?” Caleb stepped forward. He grinned down at me, then slowly, deliberately stepped his heavy sneaker onto my right hand—my drawing hand. And dug his heel in, crushing bone against hardwood. He spoke casually: “Withdraw.” I suddenly remembered: Serena was also competing in that art contest. But for me, winning that scholarship was the only way I could change my fate. So, even as I trembled in blinding agony, I gritted my teeth and refused: “No.” I couldn’t drop out. It was my only way out. I absolutely couldn’t— “We aren’t asking for your opinion.” Asher’s voice was light and airy, sounding just like the times he used to comfort me. And Caleb was even more direct: “Drop out, or I’ll cripple your hand right now.” His expression was colder than I had ever seen it. “Sydney, this is what you owe Serena.” 5 I never owed Serena anything. But no one believed me. Serena moved into the mansion next to the Montgomery estate during the spring semester of our sophomore year. She was like the female lead of a movie—the moment she appeared, she effortlessly commanded Caleb and Asher’s entire attention. Everyone loved her. So, whenever Serena showed even the slightest hint of annoyance toward me, everyone assumed I was the one in the wrong. Even when I had done absolutely nothing. But for some reason, whenever I was near Serena, my emotions would completely spiral out of my control. Until one night, I had a dream. In the dream, I realized the world I lived in was just a novel. Serena was the destined female lead, and I was just a minor, pathetic cannon fodder villain. But Caleb and Asher weren’t the male leads either. In the future, they would turn on each other in a brutal war over Serena, ending with one dead and the other crippled. The dream felt terrifyingly real, and several events that happened soon after proved it wasn’t just a nightmare. So, I arrogantly assumed I was holding the script for a redemption arc. I thought I could save them. I wanted to alter Caleb and Asher’s tragic fates. They were the only light I had in my life, even if that light had faded into darkness. I wanted to try. But my desperate attempts only pushed them further and further away. 6 Caleb didn’t hold back on his stomp. The doctor told me I needed to rest my hand for a long time. Intensive drawing was completely out of the question. But the competition was next week. I sat in the cold hospital corridor all night. When I dragged my exhausted, numb body back to my dorm the next day, I ran into Serena downstairs. Her eyes darted to my bandaged hand. She smiled faintly. “I heard you haven’t found a live model for your entry yet? Need my help?” I stared at her blankly. I actually had found a model a long time ago. It was Asher. When he agreed to sit for me, I had deluded myself into thinking we were finally repairing our bond. I was so happy. But Serena needed Asher for something, so Asher went to her instead. I had gone to Caleb for help, only to be ruthlessly mocked. “I’d advise you not to waste your time.” His arrogant, careless voice still echoed in my ears. “No matter how hard you try, Serena’s taking first place anyway.” —It was as if no matter what I did, Caleb and Asher would blindly, recklessly abandon everything to run to her. For a split second, I wanted to just give up. But Serena wasn’t done with me. She let out an “Ah,” and pulled a very familiar notebook from her designer bag. “This is your diary, isn’t it? The handwriting looks like yours.” Seeing the worn cover, my pupils shrank. Without thinking, I lunged forward to snatch it back. “Give it back!” Serena dodged, pretending to lose her balance, and fell to the ground. I reached for the diary again, but a furious roar exploded behind me. “Sydney!” —It was Caleb. 7 Caleb stormed over and shoved me hard. He carefully helped Serena up, treating her like fragile glass. I instinctively looked away, and unsurprisingly, I saw Asher standing a few feet away. He didn’t even look at me. He walked straight toward Serena. “What are you holding?” His voice was perfectly level. “I found Sydney’s diary in the classroom.” Serena offered Asher a shy, apologetic smile. “I originally wanted to bring it back to her personally, but I didn’t expect her to react so aggressively.” She spoke while stepping toward me. “If I caused a misunderstanding, then I apologize.” “What are you apologizing for?” Caleb snatched the diary from Serena’s hands. I suddenly realized what he was about to do. I tried to rush forward, but Asher blocked my path. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable but his words razor-sharp: “What are you so afraid of?” Only then did I realize I was shaking. Shaking uncontrollably. Caleb flipped through the pages, sneering. “It’s just a diary, why are you overreacting—” He stopped mid-sentence. His body froze. His expression warped into something deeply complicated. The silence stretched until Serena covered her mouth, letting out a small “Ah,” and joked lightly: “Oh my… this looks like a stalker’s diary.” There was nothing illicit or creepy in that notebook. A while ago, my memory had started failing me. It wasn’t sudden. It was like air—invisible, slowly eroding my past. By the time I noticed, I had already forgotten so many details about my life with Caleb and Asher. Like ink on a page being methodically erased. The loss of control terrified me. So I started journaling, desperately writing down every little detail of our childhood before we turned fourteen. I never expected Serena to find it. And I certainly never expected her to expose it to them like this. I avoided Caleb and Asher’s eyes. The sheer humiliation and despair made me shake even harder. My voice broke, sounding pathetic and weak: “…Give it back.” “A stalker diary?” No one paid attention to me. Asher took the notebook from Caleb. His eyes scanned the pages rapidly before he nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “It really does look like one.” The mockery in his tone was completely undisguised. “Give it back.” The burn on my stomach throbbed. The shattered bones in my right hand pulsed so hard my vision blurred. I could only repeat those words like a broken record. “Why should we give it back? This concerns us too.” Asher smiled at me. He still looked as gentle as ever. He tilted his head toward Caleb. “Right, Caleb?” Caleb avoided my gaze. He suddenly started laughing. “Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting.” He nodded, his smile fading into a deadpan glare. “It makes me extremely uncomfortable.” I dug my nails into my palms, finally forcing down the tidal wave of suffocating emotion. “Give it back,” I said, trying to make my voice sound less pathetic. “This has nothing to do with you.” “How could it have nothing to do with us?” The worn, repeatedly read diary looked impossibly fragile in Asher’s hands. He pulled out a silver lighter. His voice was whisper-soft: “Things that make people uncomfortable shouldn’t exist.” Before I could stop him, the flames licked the edges of the pages. I could only watch as the fire consumed my memories, before Asher casually tossed the burning book onto the concrete. Asher seemed curious to see how I would react. But a strange, heavy calmness suddenly washed over me. Much calmer than I thought I’d be. I stood there silently, watching the diary burn to ash, and then scatter in the wind. As if it had never existed at all. Nobody knew that my memories of the past had faded to almost nothing. Only that diary, the one I reread obsessively, could trigger the fading echoes of my childhood. But now, the last remaining tie between me and my past was severed. Completely clean. Including my pathetic delusions of saving them. And in that exact moment, I suddenly heard Serena’s voice. She said: “System, why hasn’t Asher’s capture meter gone up? Has he still not completely given up on Sydney?” 8 Serena’s lips hadn’t moved, but the words echoed in my head as if she were whispering right in my ear. Asher and Caleb were just staring at me. They clearly couldn’t hear the voice. Serena was still conversing with her so-called System. “Is your algorithm broken? Asher and Caleb literally crippled the female lead’s hand for me. How is the capture not successful yet?” “And why is their lingering emotional attachment to her still so high?” “Fine, fine. I’ll just keep working on it. The female lead’s memories of them are almost totally wiped anyway. I’m so close.” Her tone was utterly indifferent, like a player trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. Whether the puzzle was ruined in the process meant nothing to her. She just needed to complete her objective. I bit my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, but my mind had never been clearer. Serena was a “Player.” And her capture targets were Asher. And probably Caleb. She called me the “female lead.” That meant those prophetic dreams I had—the ones that made me foolishly try to “redeem” Caleb and Asher—were likely a byproduct of Serena’s presence. Including my current amnesia. I thought I would be furious. But in reality, I just listened to her conversation with the System with absolute, chilling clarity. When Caleb impatiently barked, “Sydney, what kind of crazy act are you pulling now?”, I suddenly looked up. I smiled at Caleb. My tone was lighter than it had been in years. I told them: “I’m sick.” It had been a very long time since I said those words. Caleb froze. Serena, who had been chatting with her System, also stiffened. She rushed to speak first: “If you’re sick, you should go to the hospital. What’s the point of saying it here—” Realizing she sounded too aggressive and broke her gentle facade, she quickly forced an awkward smile and corrected herself: “Are you not feeling well? Do you want me to go to the hospital with you?” I ignored her. I just quietly looked at Caleb and Asher. Refusing to miss a single micro-expression on their faces. Looking at them this closely, I noticed the cracks. Asher maintained his icy facade, but his hands, resting at his sides, instinctively curled into tight fists. Caleb’s emotional control was far worse. He subconsciously took two steps toward me, forced himself to stop, and then deployed his usual mockery: “If you’re sick, go to a doctor. Stop acting like you’re dying in front of us. What’s the point?” “Sydney, don’t tell me you think faking an illness is still going to work on us?” A long time ago, whenever I wanted to skip school or needed a favor from them, pretending to be sick was my go-to strategy. My acting was actually terrible. But back then, they would pretend to believe me, indulging my every whim. “What if it still works?” I didn’t make a hurt, wounded expression like I used to. Instead, I shrugged, flashing them the brightest smile I could muster. My voice was light: “But I’m guessing you don’t believe me anyway.” Asher frowned deeply, sensing something fundamentally wrong. “That diary—” He seemed to realize something, abruptly stopping mid-sentence and staring at the ground by his feet. But the concrete was completely clean. The wind hadn’t even left a smudge of ash. I kept smiling. My voice was incredibly soft: “It’s okay. I’ll forget about you guys soon anyway.”

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My mother gave all four of our family’s houses to my younger brother, and gave her “love” to me. So, after I started working, I gifted her a $5 necklace, but spent $2,500 on my cat. She called me a heartless, ungrateful daughter. I pointed at the four property deeds and smiled innocently: “Mom, my money might have gone to the cat, but I gave you all my love!” 1 When we were little, if my parents bought a cake, my brother and I each got a slice. If they bought toys, we each got one. They never seemed to play favorites. I always felt incredibly lucky to grow up in a fair household where my parents treated my brother and me equally. But then, my parents bought a new investment property and put it entirely in my brother Mason’s name. He was only in middle school at the time. My mom sat me down and explained: “Harper, society is different for boys. A girl doesn’t necessarily need a house to her name, but a boy needs property to be seen as a good provider and find a wife. “Money is a little tight right now, but if we ever have enough to buy another house, we’ll get one for you too.” I was depressed for days, but eventually, I convinced myself to accept it. It wasn’t that they didn’t love me; they just didn’t have the money. When I went to college, my mom cried to me about how tight their finances were. So, I worked multiple part-time jobs, hustled for academic scholarships, and paid for my own tuition and living expenses to ease their burden. Yet, during those exact same four years, they bought a second and a third investment property—both entirely in Mason’s name. My mom’s excuse evolved: “Society expects so much from men nowadays. The pressure is huge. Having a few extra properties gives him a safety net. As a girl, your life will be much easier.” That was when a phrase I constantly saw online finally clicked in my head: The Golden Child. Before this, I had never associated that term with my own family. I threw her past promises back in her face, trying to prove her hypocrisy: “You explicitly promised that when we had the money, you’d buy one for me. Now Mason has three properties. If you favor him, just admit it!” My mom exploded. “When have we ever mistreated you?! Growing up, did you ever have less food or clothes than your brother? You’re a girl—you always wanted dresses and hair clips! We spent more money on you than him on a daily basis! “If we really favored him, would we have paid for you to finish college? Do you know how many girls out there don’t even get to go to a university? What other parents balance the scales as well as we do?!” Mason immediately chimed in to fan the flames: “Harper, stop upsetting Mom. It’s their money; they can give it to whoever they want. You should know how to be grateful. They raised us, and instead of being a good daughter, you’re already scheming for their assets.” With the two of them tag-teaming me from the moral high ground, I was so suffocated I didn’t know how to respond. We had a massive argument that ended in a stalemate. I looked down at the pure 14k gold necklace in my purse. I had bought it with my very first paycheck after graduation. I had watched my mom stare at it longingly at the jewelry counter months ago, unable to bring herself to buy it. I had planned to surprise her with it today. Now, looking at the situation, there was no need. I stormed out of the house, drove straight back to the mall, and returned the necklace for a full refund. With the $2,500 cash in hand, I walked into a reputable breeder’s shop and bought a purebred Ragdoll kitten. 2 I bought my new kitten premium food, the best litter, and top-tier accessories. When I wasn’t at work, my entire routine revolved around cooking for him and playing with him. I took him to the vet for regular grooming and health checkups. My mom watched me and shook her head in disgust. “You brought a little god into the house to worship. Do you know how much money you’re wasting?!” I held my fluffy, gorgeous baby, raised an eyebrow, and said proudly: “This is my son. Of course I’m going to spoil him.” One day, my mom went out and told me to make lunch for my brother. I told her I was busy. When she came home, Mason was eating microwaved ramen. I, on the other hand, was meticulously preparing gourmet salmon meatballs for my cat. “You call this being busy?!” she shrieked. I kept my head down, carefully dicing the fish. “Everyone loves their own son. If I took care of your son, what if my son went hungry?” She glared at me, her face turning purple, completely speechless. She seemed to forget that Mason is only exactly one year younger than me. He’s a full-grown adult. Why couldn’t he cook his own food? According to my mom, “boys are clumsy” and don’t know how to do chores, so I had to serve him. Based on what logic? 3 For my mom’s birthday, Mason ordered a pair of $15 free-shipping sneakers off a discount website for her. She was overjoyed, boasting about how her son had finally grown up and knew how to take care of his mother. However, when she tried them on, they were a full two sizes too big. She laughed awkwardly. “Boys are just careless, it’s normal that he doesn’t get the sizing right. That’s why they say daughters are a mother’s true comfort.” As she spoke, she glanced at me, gesturing toward my gift. I smiled sweetly and pulled a fake designer necklace out of a beautifully wrapped box. It looked identical to the luxury brand she loved. Except the material was cheap stainless steel. Her face darkened immediately. “You’re giving me this?” I put on a mask of pure sincerity. “Yeah! I got it off an Amazon drop-shipper. It cost me exactly $5, which means it’s worth roughly the same as Mason’s shoes! “Mom, I’ve been thinking about what you said. You said when we were kids, you treated us exactly equally with snacks and toys. So now, the gifts I give you should be exactly equal to what Mason gives you. “Plus, daughters really are more thoughtful. The chain length is adjustable, so there are no sizing issues!” I was grinning from ear to ear, sounding perfectly obedient and innocent. She turned green with rage but couldn’t openly lash out without looking like a hypocrite. “You have a full-time corporate job! How can you compare yourself to your brother? He’s still a student!” She suppressed her fury. “Tell me the truth, how much are you making right now?” I answered honestly: “About $6,000 a month. But I spend almost all of it on my cat. “Mom, I finally understand how hard you had it. Raising a son is so expensive. Last week he wasn’t feeling well, so I took him to the vet for a CT scan and some meds. Over two thousand dollars, gone in the blink of an eye.” I patted my cat’s fluffy tail, playing the part of a sweet, exhausted new mother complaining about her expensive child. “WHAT?!” She jumped off the sofa, her eyes practically bleeding. “Our family is struggling financially, and you’re throwing thousands of dollars away on an animal?! Do you have any idea that your father and I still have a massive mortgage to pay off?!” I was genuinely confused. “Weren’t all three of Mason’s properties bought in cash? Why do you have a massive mortgage?” The moment the words left my mouth, it clicked. They had bought a fourth house. Realizing she had slipped up, she clamped her mouth shut, looking guilty. After a tense silence, she sat back down and tried to spin it: “We were originally planning to put this house in your name. But we thought about it… what if you get married and move away? The house would go to your husband’s family. “So we figured, since you have a great salary now, you could help us pay off the mortgage on this house first. Then, when you’re ready to get married, we’ll buy a new one just for you.” Wow. What a massive, beautifully painted pie. They wanted me to pay off a multi-million-dollar mortgage for a house in my brother’s name, while promising me some imaginary house in the distant future. If that was the case, why wouldn’t I just save my own money and buy my own house? Young people have it rough these days. Bosses manipulate you at work, the media manipulates you online, and when you go home, your own parents try to scam you. Unfortunately for her, trust can only be overdrafted so many times. “So whose name is on the deed for this new house?” I sneered, glancing at Mason, who was glued to his video game. “Let me guess. Your son’s?” She exploded again. “Why do you keep saying ‘my son’?! He’s your own flesh and blood brother! We had him so you wouldn’t be alone in this world, so you’d have family to rely on! When we get old, he’ll be your only blood relative left! If he does well, you’ll have backing when you get married! You are siblings, you should support each other! Why are you drawing lines between yours and his? “If you help pay the mortgage, we’ll even leave a guest room for you when we renovate! I know Mason wouldn’t kick you out if you ever wanted to visit!” I held my cat and lazily stifled a yawn. “So I should spend my entire salary for the next five years just to ‘reserve a guest room’ I might sleep in two days a year? I could stay at a five-star Ritz-Carlton for a fraction of that price. Your house is too expensive for me.” Before she could speak, I continued with a bright smile: “Mom, I actually think what you said before makes perfect sense. I’m a girl, I don’t need to worry about owning property. So I’ll just use my salary to raise my own son.” “Son, son! Are you seriously calling that animal your son?! Giving your own mother a fake necklace for her birthday but spending thousands on a beast every month—do you have any conscience left?!” She had completely lost it, her voice shrill and piercing. Right. I couldn’t bear to spend thousands on a necklace for her, but I gladly spent it on my cat. When things are unfair, the resentment builds. You’re finally tasting what blatant favoritism feels like. I didn’t get angry. I just looked at her innocently. “You love your son, so you gave him four houses. I love my son, so I spend my paycheck on him. Where’s the issue? “Mom, don’t be mad. My money might have gone to the cat, but I gave you all my love!” She roared at the top of her lungs: “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!” At midnight, I was officially kicked out. 4 I turned right around, checked into the Ritz-Carlton, and spent $500 on a room. The receptionist was incredibly sweet and accommodating, helping me settle my cat in and even sending up a complimentary late-night snack. I took a luxurious bubble bath, eating fresh fruit and sipping champagne. Money really is best spent where it’s appreciated. The next day was a Saturday. I drove around the neighborhood near my office and signed a lease for a beautiful, fully-furnished one-bedroom apartment with a large balcony. Rent was only $1,500 a month. The landlord was thrilled to have me, practically treating me like royalty and even hiring a cleaning service before I moved in. If I had stayed at home and given that $1,500 to my mom for the mortgage, she would have only complained that it wasn’t enough. It’s true what they say. In some places, money buys you great service and emotional peace. In other places, pouring your entire bank account out only buys you endless demands and misery. From that day on, I lived in my own peaceful little two-person world with my cat. Money, peace, and freedom—it was glorious. Half a month later, I got a call. My mom was in the hospital. She had worn the oversized discount shoes Mason bought her to her Zumba class, tripped, and fractured her ankle. She needed surgery and pins, requiring at least two weeks of full-time care. Dad was out of state dealing with a failing business venture and couldn’t come back. Mom was too cheap to hire a private nurse, so she wanted me to go take care of her. But I was currently managing a massive project at work, doing overtime every day. There was absolutely no way I could take fifteen days off. Meanwhile, Mason was on summer break, playing Call of Duty day and night with absolutely nothing to do. When I pointed this out, my mom scoffed: “Mason already made plans to go on a road trip with his frat brothers, he doesn’t have time. Besides, boys don’t know how to take care of people! Daughters are naturally more attentive and caring.” I actually laughed out loud. “Is anyone born knowing how to take care of people? I haven’t even passed my probationary period at work yet. If I ask for 15 days off, my career is over.” Her voice went shrill. “What kind of excuse is that?! Your own mother is in the hospital and you can’t make time? Are you saying your job is more important than me? You work so hard but I haven’t seen a single dime of your money! Why can’t you ever understand your parents’ struggles?!” After venting her rage, she seemed to remember she needed a favor, so her tone softened slightly. “Just talk to your boss. If you have a good relationship with them, they’ll understand a family emergency. Don’t you know how to navigate office politics?” Right. I shouldn’t try to use logic with her. I let out a shaky, miserable sigh, forcing a tone of absolute guilt: “Mom, it’s not that I don’t want to come take care of you. I wish I could fly to your bedside right now! But your precious grandson is sick too. He has feline infectious peritonitis. I can’t leave him! As a fellow mother, the love I have for my son is the exact same as the love you have for Mason. I know you, of all people, will understand.” Before she could explode, I hung up the phone. In the few seconds after the screen went black, I felt the blood in my veins run cold. So this is what it feels like to be completely detached. A moment ago, I had a million logical reasons I wanted to argue, but by the time I opened my mouth, I realized there was no point. I had been at my job for two months. Asking for a half-month leave during a critical project meant my boss would gladly grant me a permanent vacation. She knew my exact situation, but she hadn’t considered my survival for even a second. Explaining myself was useless. It wasn’t that she didn’t know; she just purposefully chose to ignore it. 5 That night, Mason finally found the time to call me, stepping away from whatever loud party he was at. “Harper, you actually left Mom in the hospital all alone? You didn’t even go visit her?! Do you have any conscience at all? You can always find another job, but you only have one mother!” Over the phone, beneath his roaring, I could hear the thumping bass, his friends howling lyrics, and the clinking of glasses. He was having a blast. I had just gotten off work and was grocery shopping. I answered the phone, treating it like a zoo exhibit: “Oh, so I assume you’re doing the 24/7 hospital watch? Wow, you’ve been working so hard, Young Master Mason.” He didn’t feel a shred of guilt. “I’m out of town, I can’t. Besides, isn’t it your responsibility to take care of Mom? Are you really abandoning your parents just because of some houses? How were you raised? Did Mom and Dad not feed you? “Even if you’re busy, couldn’t you hire a nurse for her? You make so much money but you’re too cheap to spend it on your own mother? Children shouldn’t just leech off their parents, they should contribute! Mom and Dad have millions in mortgages and work so hard, while you’re out living your best life. How can you be so selfish?!” He spewed an endless stream of self-righteous garbage. This familiar, preachy rhetoric… when did my little brother sign up for a crash course in patriarchal gaslighting? He sounded like a boomer lecturing a housewife. Since he wanted to play that game, I cleared my throat to lay out the facts. “As far as I know, your first three properties are all rented out. That’s over $10,000 in rental income every month. And none of that money is going toward the mortgage—it’s sitting in your personal bank account for your future wedding. Since you’re so considerate of our parents’ struggles, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sparing a few bucks for a nurse, right?” You see, they had the rental income to pay off the mortgage, but to protect their precious son’s savings, my parents voluntarily took the debt entirely upon themselves. Parents demand daughters understand their suffering. But some suffering is entirely self-inflicted. Misery flows toward those who enjoy consuming it. If they love eating misery so much, they can have a feast. I wasn’t having a bite. While I was talking, I pushed my cart into the bakery section. The sample lady handed me a piece of pistachio cake. I took a bite. Sweet and delicious. Mason choked on his words, getting even angrier. “You always have to compare yourself to me! I’m the son. Mom and Dad’s retirement is going to rely entirely on me. Of course we’re different. Once you get married, you’ll belong to another family. Why would they give their assets to you? That would just be handing money to outsiders! “We never expected you to do much anyway. In the future, just send them a few thousand a month in allowance and come back to nurse them when they get sick. The actual responsibility of providing for their old age is my job!” He sounded so noble and rational. I actually almost laughed. The sheer, weaponized stupidity of that statement. I was so glad I didn’t have him on speakerphone, otherwise the normal people in the grocery store would realize I was on the phone with a brain-dead moron. It would be too embarrassing. “Hey, are you listening to me? Harper…” I held the phone as far away from my ear as possible, like it was a biohazard. “The wind is too loud! I can’t hear what kind of dog is barking at me!” 6 At 8:00 PM, my mom posted a photo of her in a hospital gown on Facebook with the caption: “Hospitalized alone. Watching the patient next to me surrounded by her loving daughter and family. Must be nice.” Within half an hour, she had a dozen comments asking what happened. Sure enough, I was instantly bombarded by calls from relatives. My aunt charged the front lines, self-righteously seeking justice for her sister: “Harper, throwing a tantrum is one thing, but there’s no such thing as a bad parent. How can you just abandon your mother? Regardless of what your brother does, you need to fulfill your duties as a daughter! “Parents have it hard. You’ll understand when you’re my age. Even if it’s just for half a month, or even a few years, it’s your duty to care for them. Don’t tell me your job is too tiring. You work in an office staring at a computer, how exhausting can it be? You young people have it too easy, you just can’t handle a little hardship.” I nodded vigorously to the empty room, fake-sobbing in absolute agony. “Auntie, you have no idea! My heart is breaking for my mom, but I caught a severe virus, my fever is through the roof, and I literally can’t get out of bed! Mason won’t even let me come home, he said I’m ‘spilled water’ now that I’m an adult! Waaaah~ “Auntie, you’re so right. That’s my mom, your only sister! We absolutely cannot abandon her. So you’ll go take care of her for the next two weeks, right? Cough, cough… I’d offer to pay you, but I know you’d never accept money, because you understand our family’s financial struggles better than anyone… Hello? Hello? Auntie, why did you hang up?” Sigh. These people really can’t handle a taste of their own medicine. I tossed my phone aside, thoroughly entertained, and laid down to play with my cat. Dealing with nosy relatives is simple: match their unhinged energy and flip the script. It’s so easy for them to command others using empty words. But the second it requires their own time or money, they run faster than Olympic sprinters. 7 A month later, my probationary period at work ended. I was officially hired full-time. My salary was bumped by 20%, and I got a generous PTO package. During that entire month, I didn’t go home, and I didn’t visit the hospital. According to Facebook, my mom was discharged weeks ago and was living perfectly fine. My life wasn’t affected in the slightest—if you ignore the fact that she was crying to the neighbors and relatives about what an unfilial monster I was. I guess my reputation as a cold-blooded, ruthless daughter was firmly established. But honestly? These people couldn’t get me a promotion, and they couldn’t bring me any valuable networking resources. Why should I kidnap my own sanity just for their validation? The most important thing in life is to be happy. I opened the curtains of my apartment. The sprawling city skyline and the rising moon filled my view. I seared a steak, popped open a bottle of champagne, and celebrated my promotion on my balcony. The ambient lights flickered. My cat squinted contentedly beside me, purring like a gentle engine. I raised my glass. A toast to myself, standing on my own. Life was good. … The peaceful days rolled on. Half a year later, my dad called me and asked me to come home for the holidays. “It’s almost Thanksgiving. Who doesn’t go home for the holidays? Your mom was just angry back then. Come home.” My mom chimed in from the background: “Harper, a mother and daughter can’t hold a grudge forever! No matter how mad you are, you have to come home for Thanksgiving dinner.” You don’t slap a smiling face. Since they were extending an olive branch, I naturally played along. “Mom, Dad, I missed you guys so much! I’ll bring your furry grandson over to see you right now!” At the dinner table, no one brought up the fact that they kicked me out, and no one mentioned my mysterious disappearance during my mom’s hospitalization. My dad kept putting food on my plate. “Here, eat more lobster. It’s your brother’s favorite. If you don’t eat it now, he’ll devour the whole thing.” Except, I’m allergic to lobster. In fact, looking at the massive feast on the table, not a single dish was something I actually liked. I was incredibly annoyed, but I maintained an elegant smile. “I knew Dad loved me the most.” He was very satisfied with this picture of family harmony. With a little wine in his system, he started making grand speeches. “Don’t worry, Harper. In a few years, when my business takes off, I’ll buy you a luxury penthouse downtown. It’ll be worth more than all four of your brother’s houses combined! “A family needs to stick together. We need to twist ourselves into a single rope. That’s how a family prospers.” I nodded enthusiastically, looking deeply moved. “Yes, yes! Thank you, Dad! And don’t you worry, in a few years when your daughter makes partner at the firm and becomes a millionaire, I’ll buy you a private yacht and take you to Hawaii!” You want to blow hot air? I can blow hot air too. When it comes to painting imaginary pies, the student has surpassed the master. “Why wait for the future? You should be honoring your parents right now! You’ve been working for half a year, how much money have you saved?” Just as my dad and I were riding high on our delusions, my mom had to ruin the mood. “Ugh, how could my meager corporate salary ever compare to my brother’s passive rental income? Right, Mr. Landlord? What are you getting Mom and Dad for the holidays?” I blinked innocently at Mason. My mom looked awkward, probably gearing up for another “boys are just careless” speech. My dad frowned. “Alright, that’s enough. It’s the holidays. We’re the elders, we should be giving gifts to the kids.” And so, on this grand Thanksgiving night, I received a crisp $100 bill from my dad. Hey, considering I spent $80 on a nice bottle of wine to bring over, I was definitely taking it! 8 During the winter holidays, Mason brought his girlfriend home. The family called me back for a get-together. My mom told me to buy her future daughter-in-law a piece of fine jewelry or a jar of La Mer skincare as a welcome gift. I threw my hands up. “I’m broke.” So, my mom marched her into my old bedroom. “Whatever. Your sister has more than one designer bag. Just pick one you like.” Since I moved out early, the bags left in my room were mostly mid-tier ones I bought right after college—Coach, Michael Kors—nothing crazy expensive. The girl’s eyes darted around the room, eventually landing on me. Specifically, on the Louis Vuitton bag I was currently wearing. Mason immediately jumped out to back up his girlfriend. “It’s just a bag, right? If Chloe likes it, give it to her. You came over for dinner empty-handed and we didn’t say anything.” Miss Chloe timidly tugged at his sleeve, her eyes slightly red. “It’s okay, Mason. Maybe your sister just doesn’t see me as family yet. I don’t want to cause trouble.” Uh… What kind of radioactive trash did Mason drag home? Truly, birds of a feather flock together. I smiled brightly, my eyes curving into crescents. “Sorry, honey! Some people have shame, some people don’t. Begging for a Louis Vuitton on your first visit? I don’t think your brand loyalty aligns with your personal values.” With that, I turned on my heel and walked out. Almost getting robbed of a two-thousand-dollar bag just to eat a dry turkey dinner? I couldn’t afford that. … That night, I was scrolling through Reddit when I stumbled upon a post in a relationship advice sub. [Title: First time visiting my boyfriend’s family, and his older sister didn’t give me a gift. What should I do?] The post detailed how rude and ill-mannered this “older sister” was, even mentioning she was so horrible her parents had kicked her out of the house. The avatar of the user matched the WhatsApp profile picture of the girl who had added me earlier that day: Chloe. This girl had clearly forgotten to turn off the “Sync Contacts” feature, so the app recommended her post to me. Finding it highly entertaining, I scrolled through her post history. The post right before this one read: [Title: My boyfriend has three fully paid-off investment properties and one house with a mortgage. If we marry, will I get a share of them?] The top comments bluntly told her: [The mortgaged house means he just wants you to help him pay off his debt. The fully paid-off houses are pre-marital assets—you have zero legal claim to them. If he really loves you, make him legally transfer two of the houses into your name, or force him to sell them and buy a new one together after you’re married.] I was speechless. This girl’s ambition extended far beyond a simple Louis Vuitton bag. Scrolling even further back, I found: [Title: Should I marry an only child or a guy with an older sister? The only child makes $150k but only owns one house. The guy with a sister only makes $40k, but he has four houses in his name, and his sister makes a massive corporate salary. She’ll definitely subsidize our lifestyle in the future. Which one should I pick?] I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She had literally factored my salary into her future net worth. You have to admire the audacity.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “435857”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In my last life, when the billionaire’s biological daughter was brought home from the orphanage, she insisted on taking me with her. Her excuse? “She’s pretty. I want her as a pet.” Everyone believed her. But after she orchestrated my death, I realized the truth. She had stolen my “Starlet System” and signed a demonic pact. The rule was simple: she and I were bound. Whoever was kicked out of the family would be “deleted” by the system. The survivor would inherit double the beauty of the deceased. The true heiress didn’t hesitate to bind me. And she succeeded. After I died, her beauty reached impossible levels. She used that face to conquer Hollywood, becoming an A-list sensation overnight. She was hailed as the “Industry’s Ultimate Muse.” Whenever people praised her face, she’d smile with fake modesty. “I just grew into it. I have my parents’ genes to thank.” No one knew the truth. Except me, and I was dead. I thought I would vanish into nothingness, unable to claim my revenge. But I woke up. I returned to the very day the Millers came to the orphanage to find their long-lost daughter. The moment I opened my eyes, I knew Avery had already stolen the system and bound me again. Without a second thought, I dove into the orphanage’s toy bin and dug out a tattered, filth-covered teddy bear. In my previous life, I heard that when Avery went missing as a child, she was clutching this bear. As the years passed, Avery had forgotten all about it. … The reunion was just finishing. Avery was about to open her mouth to “charitably” bring me along. I “accidentally” let the teddy bear fall out of my bag. The Millers’ expressions shifted instantly. The billionaire father, Arthur: “That bear…” Avery glanced at it, disgusted. “Just some trashy toy from the bin. Chloe, aren’t you worried about germs?” I looked at her, trembling like a frightened bird. “I just… it feels familiar to me…” Half an hour later, Avery barely got the words out to suggest bringing me along before the Millers practically tripped over themselves to agree. As we climbed into the luxury SUV, I studied Avery’s face. I wondered… after she’s deleted, how much will my stats actually go up? 1 As soon as we reached the Miller estate, Avery made her first move. “Dad, Mom, Chloe isn’t your biological daughter, but we grew up together in the home. We’re like sisters.” “I want her to stay in the room right next to mine. Is that okay?” Avery hugged my arm, smiling with artificial sweetness. In my last life, I was so moved I cried on the spot. Later, I realized… putting me next to her was the only way she could monitor me, frame me, and complete her system tasks. Most people wouldn’t believe a fifteen-year-old could be so calculating. Sure enough, Arthur and Evelyn were deeply touched. They pulled her into a hug. “Our sweet, sensible girl.” “Chloe, you come here too. From now on… we’ll take care of you.” I walked over with faked hesitation, leaning my cheek against Evelyn’s shoulder. I had spent a lifetime studying this woman’s habits. Evelyn Miller loved cats. Usually, she liked it best when her kittens rubbed against her for attention. I was right. Evelyn’s eyes lit up. The look she gave me held a flicker of genuine affection. It was a little pathetic. But I didn’t care. Arthur and Evelyn were soft-hearted fools. In the last life, Avery won them over with ease and whispered poison in their ears every night. I suffered every indignity because of it. Why would I ignore a winning strategy? This time, I was going to make sure Avery was the one erased from existence. 2 However, I faced a major problem. Avery and I would inevitably be taken for a DNA test. A family this rich doesn’t just let strangers in without verification. The only reason they hadn’t done it yet was to “build a bond” first. But once the results came out proving Avery was the biological daughter, my whispers wouldn’t matter. I lay on the expensive, silk sheets, unable to sleep. This was a battlefield of life and death. I had to play my cards perfectly. Recalling the past, I woke up early the next day and tied my hair into two simple braids. I put on a vintage-style floral dress. I looked like the quintessential girl-next-door. The moment Avery saw me, she laughed out loud. “Chloe, we’re in a billionaire’s mansion now.” “Can you leave the ‘orphanage chic’ behind? You look like a peasant.” As she spoke, Arthur and Evelyn came downstairs for breakfast. Avery rushed to Evelyn’s side, continuing her mockery. “Mom, look at Chloe. She looks like a farm girl from the last century.” “We’re going to see Grandma and Grandpa today, right? If she wears that, won’t it be embarrassing?” I looked at them, feigning confusion. Sure enough, Evelyn’s eyes welled with tears. Arthur, standing behind her, froze. “Evelyn… Chloe looks exactly like you did in your debutante photos.” Evelyn choked back a sob, rushing forward to grab my hands. She couldn’t stop nodding. I acted completely overwhelmed, making them look at me with even more heartbreak. Avery, on the other hand, was stunned. “Dad? Mom? What are you talking about?” They didn’t answer. Arthur went to the storage room and pulled out a yellowed photo album. The album I had memorized in my last life. Evelyn: “Look! Chloe’s outfit… it’s a near-perfect match for my old photos!” “We have to let your grandmother see this.” “She’ll be in tears.” Avery’s face went pale. I lowered my head to hide my smirk. The first move was mine. I was integrating into this family faster than she ever could. 3 Avery acted like the undisputed heiress. But Evelyn’s sudden closeness to me made her feel the threat. She started framing me, just like before. No boundaries, no shame. The day after we returned from the grandparents’ house, Evelyn realized her diamond necklace was missing. After searching the house, Evelyn gave up. “Forget it. It wasn’t that expensive.” Avery suddenly transformed into a champion of justice. “How can things just go missing in our own home? No, we have to find it!” “If it’s really gone… that means someone stole it!” I understood exactly what she meant. If I guessed correctly, that necklace was in my room right now. “Forget it,” Evelyn said. “It’s just a necklace. If someone liked it, they can keep it.” Avery’s brow furrowed. “That’s not the point, Mom!” Right. That wasn’t the point. I stood up too. “Mom, you really should look for it.” “Avery and I just joined the family. If that necklace isn’t found, there will always be a cloud of suspicion over both of us.” Evelyn finally agreed. Avery smiled, her eyes darting across my face. She looked at my features as if they were a prize she had already won. To prove her “innocence,” she spoke up first. “Mom, start with my room!” Of course, they found nothing in Avery’s bedroom. Then it was my turn. But I wasn’t worried. Because while they were in her room, I had discreetly swiped a few strands of her hair and some nail clippings I found in her trash can and hid them. 4 As we reached my door, Avery put on a dramatic, pained expression. “Chloe.” “If you just confess, Mom won’t be mad.” “You took it, didn’t you?” I shook my head, my face a mask of terror. “Mom, I didn’t…” Avery cut me off. “Mom, I was afraid to say it because I didn’t want to hurt you.” “But I saw her sneak into your room yesterday.” “I thought she was just going to talk to you. I didn’t think she was going to steal!” Evelyn looked at me, her brow furrowed. I knew it. Her “soft-hearted” weakness was acting up. But that was fine. I needed a reason to put on a show. I didn’t argue. I simply opened my bedroom door. Avery was the first to rush in. After tossing my bed, she went straight for my vanity. “Avery, if it’s not there, let it go,” Evelyn said. Evelyn hadn’t moved a muscle to help, but she also hadn’t stopped Avery. A second later, Avery pulled the necklace out of my vanity drawer. “Mom, look!!!” “I told you! She really stole it!” Evelyn stared at me, shocked. She checked the necklace. “It really is mine.” “Chloe, you…” Evelyn looked heartbroken. “You’ve only been here a few days. How could you do this?” “This necklace isn’t even that valuable. If you wanted one, I would have taken you shopping. Why steal it?” Avery kept stoking the fire, dramatically clutching her chest and taking two steps back. “Chloe, I thought you would leave your orphanage habits behind once you came here.” “I brought you into this family out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how you repay me?” 5 Avery spoke loudly, making sure the housekeepers heard. Arthur walked through the front door at that exact moment. “What’s going on?” Avery embellished the story with extra venom. Arthur’s face darkened instantly. I shook my head, my eyes red. “Dad, Mom, I didn’t take that necklace. I swear.” Before they could respond, Avery sneered. “Caught red-handed, and you’re still making excuses?” From an angle the parents couldn’t see, Avery smirked at me. She looked like she had already won. I let my lips curl up for a fraction of a second. Then, I dropped to my knees. “Dad, Mom, I didn’t take it.” Evelyn turned away, clearly done with me. “Chloe, I’m afraid we can’t keep you here.” Arthur’s voice was cold. Avery couldn’t hide her excitement. But how could I let her win so easily? I wiped my tears and pulled out my phone. I dialed 911. The Millers turned around, their eyes bulging. “Chloe, what are you doing?” I stood there, spine straight. “Dad, Mom, if I stole it, you can let the police take me away.” “There are only a few of us in this house. The fingerprints on that necklace will prove who the thief is.” Avery panicked visibly. “Wh-what fingerprints? You’re talking nonsense!” She tried to snatch the necklace back, but I blocked her. “Chloe! What are you trying to do?! Do you know who our parents are? You want to drag our family name through the mud?” “Calling the cops over a necklace? You’re just trying to embarrass them!” “You ungrateful little brat!” I ignored her and looked at the Millers. A single tear escaped my eye. In that moment, I knew. Evelyn was wavering. 6 I kept my back straight, projecting total transparency. “Dad, Mom, only the police can prove my innocence now.” Arthur frowned. “You’re being too impulsive!” “Avery is right. Any scandal involving our family becomes national news.” Avery nodded frantically, acting like the defender of the family honor. But I knew. The only prints on that necklace belonged to Avery and Evelyn. If the police arrived, Avery’s theft would be a legal fact. She didn’t dare let them come. Soon, the sound of sirens approached. The cruiser pulled into the driveway. Ultimately, Arthur didn’t let the police inside. He dismissed them with a few quick words. “We’ll let this go for now,” Arthur said. “If it happens again, you’re going back to the home.” They might have let it go, but I knew if I accepted that “grace,” I had lost. I discreetly pinched myself, using the sharp pain to force more tears to fall. “No,” I choked out, standing up with stubborn pride. “You don’t believe me, but you won’t let the police clear my name. You just want me gone.” “I’ll leave.” As I turned, I saw Avery’s face light up. But Evelyn was faster. She grabbed my arm. “Chloe, that’s not what we meant!” “Chloe, I believe you. Maybe the maid just misplaced it?” I lowered my gaze. It was time to trigger the plan I had laid days ago. I looked at them through blurry eyes. “Dad, Mom, Avery… have a good life. I’m going.” “You probably won’t believe me, but I’m bound to a mysterious ‘System’.” “If I’m kicked out of this house… I will be permanently deleted.” The moment the words left my mouth, Avery froze. She didn’t expect me to say that. But Arthur and Evelyn had no idea what I was talking about. Arthur: “What are you rambling about? Deleted?” I didn’t explain. I shook my head and walked toward the door. But before I left, just as Evelyn called my name, I collapsed. That’s right. I was gambling. I was betting that my carefully crafted “perfect daughter” persona over the last few days… Had already taken root in Evelyn’s heart. 7 I won the bet. The moment I fell, Arthur and Evelyn rushed forward to catch me. “Chloe! Why did she just faint like that?” Evelyn was frantic. I could hear the tremor in her voice. But as they were shouting for an ambulance, Avery muttered something under her breath in a daze. “So, the System is real? It’s actually real… then I…” Her voice turned into a whisper of pure excitement. I felt the Millers’ movements pause. “What system?” “What Chloe said was true?” “Forget that! Get her to her room!” Once I felt the timing was right, I “slowly” woke up. They were both sitting by my bed. “Thank God, she’s awake.” Evelyn let out a long breath, clutching her chest. “You silly girl, you scared us half to death.” “The thing earlier was just a misunderstanding. Why did you take it so seriously?” Avery was standing behind them, glaring at me with pure venom. She had seen through my act. But so what? The Millers were hooked. I bit my lip and whispered, “Dad… Mom…” 8 Evelyn pulled me into a protective hug. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” I lay against her, feeling absolutely nothing. She only loved me because she thought I was her daughter. In the last life, she was exactly the same way with Avery. Even after I died and vanished, they never looked for me once. They didn’t care about “good” or “bad.” They only cared about who shared their blood. After a few minutes, Arthur spoke up. “Chloe, why did you faint at the door?” I explained the “System” in meticulous detail. They were skeptical. Avery scoffed. “Dad, Mom, you actually believe this?” “A ‘System’? She’s clearly making up stories.” See? The people who frame you are always the ones who know exactly how innocent you are. I shook my head and didn’t defend myself. I whispered: “Dad, Mom… I don’t know why you brought me back.” “But if you brought me here… is it because I might be your biological daughter?” “I heard at the home that there’s something called a DNA test. I want… to do one.” “If I’m not your daughter, I’ll leave immediately.” “Even if… I’m deleted. I accept it.” Arthur and Evelyn looked at each other. In the original timeline, they were supposed to suggest this in a few days. They just didn’t expect me to bring it up first. Avery tilted her chin up, arrogant as ever. She had reason to be. She was the biological one. But today was not like the last life. In the last life, she took my life. In this one, I’m using her own game to turn her into stardust. 9 The DNA test was scheduled. The Millers were considerate enough to let me rest for a day first. That evening, Arthur and Evelyn went out for an event, leaving only Avery and me at home. I purposefully took a bowl of expensive mangosteens and walked past her. “Tch.” She sneered. “Eat up. You’re only picking the expensive stuff because you’re a peasant.” “Enjoy it while you can. Once you’re kicked out, you won’t even be able to afford a burger!” “I’m telling you, you are not their daughter. Get ready to rot!” I didn’t say a word, just squinted my eyes at how delicious the fruit was. Avery couldn’t take it. She kicked the trash can over and barked at me. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” “Go get me some mangosteens and peel an apple for me!!” I didn’t move. Avery stood up, threatening me. “Hurry up! Did you not learn your lesson the last few days?” “I could have them throw you out tonight!” I finished the last mangosteen and checked the time. The Millers were due back any minute. “Okay. I’m going.” I ran to the kitchen, listening for the sound of the front door. As soon as I heard it open, I “accidentally” let the paring knife slip across my thumb. The cut wasn’t huge, but it was deep. Blood started flowing fast. “Blood… blood!” My eyes rolled back, and I dropped the apple and collapsed to the kitchen floor. My head hit the tile with a loud, sickening thud. The housekeeper heard it and rushed in. “Oh my God! Chloe fainted again!!!” I lay perfectly still on the floor. It actually hurt quite a bit. But compared to the pain Avery inflicted on me in the last life? This was nothing. 10 The Millers frantically carried me back to my room. “What happened? She didn’t even leave the house!” “Oh my God, look at all this blood!” Evelyn gently disinfected the cut while questioning the housekeeper. “What is going on?!” “We were only gone for an hour! How is she unconscious again?” Avery was baffled. “Wait, is the System glitched? Is she being deleted early?” “Mom, do I look prettier yet?” Arthur barked at her. “What are you talking about? Is your sister’s looks the priority right now?” “Mrs. Gable, tell me! What happened!” The housekeeper hesitated. “Well… Avery told Chloe to get her some fruit… and then I heard a loud bang. When I went in, Chloe was already down.” Arthur took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with blame. “We have staff for that! Why are you bossing Chloe around?” “If you want fruit, get it yourself—” I “slowly” opened my eyes and weakly grabbed Arthur’s sleeve. “Dad… don’t blame Avery. It was my fault. I’m just… faint at the sight of blood.” Avery’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What?!” “You never fainted at blood in the home! Chloe, stop lying—” “ENOUGH!!” Even the gentle Evelyn had reached her limit. “I don’t care who is biological. You are both our daughters. Sisters should support each other.” She turned to Avery. “Avery, you were the one who insisted on bringing Chloe back. Why are you treating her like an enemy now?” Avery froze, her eyes immediately filling with tears. “Mom!!” Evelyn turned away, her chest heaving with anger. I helped her steady her breathing. “Let’s do the DNA test tomorrow.” “But I’m afraid of blood… I might…” Arthur waved his hand. “That’s fine.” “DNA tests don’t need blood. Hair and nail clippings work just as well.” 11 Evelyn stayed by my bed all night, terrified I’d have another “deletion event.” The next morning, we went straight to the clinic. “Chloe’s afraid of blood, so we’ll just use hair and nails.” Avery shrugged, seemingly unbothered. She looked confident. I found it strange. Had the System told her something? When we got to the lab, I discreetly handed over the hair and nail clippings of Avery I had collected the day before. As for the samples Avery submitted? I had already swapped them out for mine. On the way home from the hospital, Avery was humming a song. “Mom, I’m your real daughter.” “We’ve missed out on so much time. You have to make it up to me from now on.” Avery snuggled into Evelyn’s arms. But if I wasn’t mistaken, Evelyn’s arms were stiff. Her hands hovered in the air, unsure of what to do. Finally, she gave Avery a light pat on the back. “Okay.” I looked out the window at the scenery. Enjoy it while it lasts, Avery. In a few days, when the results come back, you won’t be humming anymore. 12 DNA results usually take seven days. But Avery couldn’t wait. She was becoming more reckless by the hour. “Hey, bring me that new dress Mom bought you. I want to wear it.” She was eating snacks and watching TV, gesturing at me with her chin. I didn’t argue. It was just a dress. “And the money in your allowance card? That belongs to my family. Transfer it all to my account.” “Everything in this house is mine. Don’t think you’re taking a cent with you!” I continued to play the submissive victim. As I was walking down the stairs, she stepped up behind me and gave me a violent shove! I was prepared for it, so I knew how to fall. I let myself tumble, ensuring I didn’t take any serious damage, but I made sure my forehead hit the banister hard enough to swell. This time, even the housekeepers couldn’t stay quiet. By the time Arthur and Evelyn got home, the head maid was already bringing out the first aid kit. “Chloe, let me see that forehead. The swelling is bad.” Arthur and Evelyn exchanged a look. “What happened?” I glanced at Avery, terrified, and didn’t say a word. They sensed the tension and turned to Avery. “Avery? Talk.” She flipped through channels on the TV. “She just fell, Dad. Why are you making a big deal out of it?” “She’s leaving soon anyway.” Avery was right. If the results showed I wasn’t the daughter, I was gone. But for now, the results weren’t in. Arthur, normally a calm man, slammed his hand onto the coffee table. “TELL ME! What happened!” Avery jumped. But relying on her “true heiress” status, she wasn’t truly afraid. “Dad! Why are you screaming?” “I just gave her a little push while she was going downstairs. She’s the one who couldn’t balance. How is that my fault?” Arthur’s face was livid. “You tried to hurt her! Go apologize!” Avery rolled her eyes, her apology sounding forced and insincere. “Yelling at your own daughter for a stray orphan…” “Let’s see if you regret it later!” 13 Because of my “injury,” Arthur kept Avery on a tight leash for the rest of the week. But she didn’t care. She kept telling me that she was “granting me one last week.” When we went to the hospital to pick up the results, she was strutting, holding Arthur and Evelyn’s arms. “Dad, Mom, you’re about to find out who really belongs.” “Chloe, I was going to let you stay as a pet. But since you’re so clumsy and sneaky… don’t regret it when you’re on the street.” She was so drunk on her own arrogance that even Arthur frowned. A man who became a billionaire doesn’t like people who can’t keep their cool. Avery had been acting like a queen regnant all week. “Stop talking. Let’s get the results,” Evelyn said, her hands shaking. “Chloe, come on.” I stood a few feet away from Avery as they went to the desk. Avery crossed her arms, humming. “Chloe, do you know what I want to be once I’m official?” “I’m going to be the most beautiful woman in the world, become a superstar, and have millions of fans.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to go under the knife, so I guess I have to thank you for your face.” She actually thought I couldn’t understand her. Before I could reply, the Millers walked back, their eyes red. “Dad! Mom! I told you—” Before she could finish, I was pulled into their arms. “My sweet daughter.” “We’re so sorry. We took so long to find you.” I was hugged so tightly I could barely breathe. Evelyn was cupping my face, laughing and crying at the same time. “Thank God. Thank God.” Arthur stroked my hair, his eyes full of unspoken relief. We looked like the perfect family. Avery, meanwhile, looked like she was losing her mind. 14 “Dad! Mom! You must be reading it wrong!” She snatched the paper from their hands. After a full minute of silence, her hands went limp, and the paper fluttered to the floor. I picked it up. Probability of Paternity: 99.99% (Chloe Sterling & Arthur Miller) “Impossible. This can’t be happening,” Avery whispered, shaking her head. “The System told me! I’m the daughter!” “The test is wrong! We have to do it again! Right now!” Avery lunged at me, grabbing my wrist so hard she left red marks. Arthur, a grown man, had to use all his strength to pry her off me. “Avery! Calm down!” “We already told you—even if you aren’t the biological daughter, you can stay with us.” Once she calmed down, Avery glared at me with pure hatred. But she was smart. She waited until we were back at the house to confront me in private. “It was you, wasn’t it?” “You rigged the test?” I smiled. “Yeah.” “So what? The results are official. I’m the Miller heiress now.” I purposefully goaded her, tugging at the sleeve of the dress she was wearing. “All those clothes you took from me? You’re going to have to give them all back.” “And from now on, you better be very, very polite to me.” “Otherwise… getting kicked out by your ‘real’ parents would be a very painful way to die, wouldn’t it?” I expected her to snap. But she didn’t. She swallowed her rage. She just left me with a threat: “I’m the protagonist of this System. Get ready to die.” I didn’t sleep that night. Avery’s eyes were too dark for me to feel safe.

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